O-Pt^KTID 


English  Opera. 


FEA  DIA.NOLO 

siETfcCR.2.rr  a  ^  _ 

THE  MJ^^-j^;4xSekV\ 

UO^USIC  &Mu!5>  ) 

k 


O' 


Or 


G  &  SONS, 


RERS  OF 


and  Upright 

Fortes. 


ents  having  stood  the  critical  test  of  the 
civilized  world  for  the  past  fifty  years,  we  take  pride  in 
the  fact  that  they  still  keep  the  front  rank  beyond  all 
competition.  We  made  and  sold  2y500  in  the  year 
1872,  and  our  business  is  steadily  increasing.  43y000 
made  and  sold  up  to  the  present  time. 

Tie  Standard  Piano-Fortes  ef  tie  World 

are  the  Grand,  Square  and  Uprights  of 
OHICKEEING  &  SONS. 


WAREROOMS: 


48  Boylston  Street, 

BOSTON. 


11  East  Fourteenth  St., 

NEW  YORK. 


X 


EXTRA  CARD- 


KELLOSS 

-V/h/  ddes  ffdat/eed  Ctrl' c/ ^e-ndde-men  cy?  ddec  r$onydtany  dcout'ty  dayyejdecd 
ddad yiieol  do  dAec  cdodtny  of?  ddec  yileden'd  duccef^ydad deddon  d/i<* 


f 


«•»  trnss*  %d* 

M«/cC  qnin  ounce  Sit  mde /y? yd  1  a 

COMPLIMENTARY  BENEFIT, 

cP&e  Siad  ddec  Sionol  do  ddadey  d/iad^  Zie/  dad  dedecdec/  doi  dde  occadton 

THEE  USHE-W  VERSION 

(d? dd&cedet  d  d/'amoud  (^leia, 


ddditcSf  loddd s de  y/iledt.ndec/ on  7 

Wednesday  Evening,  April  22,  at  the  National  Theatre. 

^etny  d/ie  dcdcidd  d^e/tic ^idadeon  o/? d/itd  Ado/ictdcel  ffold in  dAtd  ccdy 
ievtde'/ dy  dde  ^(oo-rn^lodei  c<y/ite^<ddy, ^ol 

ogat  ^Italian  (Opera,  dEonbon, 


Wd/d  neio  ieccdadtoud  an'  /dd  endernd/ec  yleaddy  tnifi-iovet/.  cd/ie ydod 

dow-eny  uodaOdy  idlony  cr)d  /odd  ds  eyddoye./ re/ion  d/ted  occadton  : 

Miss  Clara  Louise  Kellogg  -  -  as  -  -  Zerlina 

di  to  dec d  dde  onac/e  del  ySeldd  a^icalance  tn  (d^iela  tn  ffaddenydon  ,  en  • 
dior/uctny  dde/  dony  y?lom  dde/  dyieu,  dy  Cdadel, 

/  t/dd/,  Jdatdd cd dffidedpey  dd'-.ddolLoic-. 

Mr,  Theodore  Habelmann  -  -  as  -  -  Fra  Diavolo 

«  ^  c/d'M  vnodd  ce/ediadec/  tm/ee Idonadeon ,  tndiocdteccny  dde  deaadtfeid  Reiman 
fk/dad  trey:  -.odd//  '-'-'dyed.  ' '  j  - 

Mr.  and  Mrs,  \Seguin  in  their  Celeb  rated  Roles  of  Lord, 
and  Lady  Allcash. 

Mr.  Peakes  as  Beppo.  Mr.  Hull  as  Giacomo 

Mr.  HESS  begs  permission  to  add  that  this  is  the  first  time  during  his  career  as 
an  operatic  director  that  he  has  presented  his  name  aa  a  beneficiary,  and  lie  feels  es¬ 
pecially  gratified  that  the  opportunity  occurs  at  the  place  of  his  early  experience  as 
a  manager,  and  upon  the  scene  of  the  pleasantest  associations  of  his  public  career. 

Scats  can  be  purchased  at  Metzerott  A  Co’s.  Music  Store,  and  at  Box  Oillce  of  the 
Theatre. 


dramatis  Fsrsoim 


Fra  Diavolo  . 

Lorenzo . 

Lord  Alloash 

Giacomo . 

Beppo . 

Matteo . 

Zerlina . 


Lady  :  Allcash 


AIR.  JOSEPH  MAAS, 


.  V  MR.  SECT  IN, 
•  .  •  MR.  >HAL£j 
!r9tW  PEAKE3J 


MISS 


CL4gA  .amTlSETCE LLOGC 


MRS.  SEGtTlN, 


Guides,  Soldiers,  Peasants,  <fcc.,  &c. 


'122. 12 

A*H 

/  ?n 

PLOT  OF  THE  OPEKA. 


The  story  on  which  this  Opera  is  founded  is  so  simple  that  it  may  be  told  in 
a  few  words. 

A  notorious  bandit  and  robber  who,  from  his  daring  exploits  and  seemingly 
miraculous  escapes,  has  acquired  the  title  of  Fra  Diavolo  (the  Devil's  Brother),  is 
the  hero  ;  and  although  not  what  is  styled  in  good  society  an  estimable  person, 
possesses  some  qualifications  which  are  apt  to  wrin  admiration,  if  not  respect, 
from  the  million.  He  is  courageous,  frank,  and  exceedingly  gallant,  and,  it  is 
said,  freely  gave  to  the  poor  part  of  the  booty  he  stole  from  the  rich.  In  an  ex¬ 
cursion  among  the  mountains,  Fra  Diavolo  falls  in  with  an  English  nobleman  and 
his  fashionable  wife,  Lord  and  Lady  Allcash,  who  are  making  the  grand  tour, 
He  encounters  them  at  the  Inn  of  Terracina,  kept  by  one  Matteo,  whose  daughter 
Zerlina,  a  very  pretty  girl,  loves  and  is  beloved  by  Lorenzo,  a  young  soldier,  who, 
at  the  commencement  of  the  Opera,  is  about  to  start  with  his  comrades  in  search 
of  Fra  Diavolo.  The  Lady  and  her  Lord  enter  in  great  trepidation,  having 
narrowly  escaped  robbery  by  the  band  of  which  Fra  Diavolo  is  chief.  They 
innocently  explain  to  him  (mistaking  him  in  his  disguise  for  the  Marquis  San 
%Carlo)  the  trick  by  which  they  saved  their  most  valuable  property  from  the 
brigands.  Fra  Diavolo  is  enraged,  and  resolves  to  possess  the  diamonds  and  cash 
so  carelessly  missed  by  his  men.  He  makes  love  to  Lady  Allcash,  eludes  the 
Carbineers,  and  lays  his  plan  to  relieve  the  rich  travelers  of  all  further  care  of 
their  valuables. 

>  The  Second  Act  introduces  us  to  the  neat  and  simple  bed-chamber  of  Zerlina, 
who,  after  a  very  pretty  song  and  an  earnest  prayer,  retires  to  rest,  to  dream  of 
;  her  wedding  with  Lorenzo,  which  happy  event  is  appointed  for  the  morrow.  Fra 
v  Diavolo,  with  two  of  his  gang,  gain  access  to  this  room,  which  adjoins  that  of 
<3  Lord  and  Lady  Allcash,  and  prepare  to  seize  their  destined  plunder.  Zerlina 
moves  in  her  sleep,  and  one  of  the  brigands  raises  his  knife  to  stab  her.  At  this 
0^ moment,  in  her  dream,  she  murmurs  gently  a  hymn  to  the  Virgin — the  ruffian 


V>i 


X 


is  awe-stricken,  and  leaves  her  to  sleep  in  peace. 


Fra  Diavolo  enters  the  cham- 
,  when  every  one  in  the  house 
^Vis  awakened  by  the  shouting  and  noise  made  by  the  troopers,  who,  returning  from 
their  unsuccessful  chase  after  Fra  Diavolo 


o  her  of  my  Lord  and  Lady,  and  is  sure  of 


and  dresses  herself. 


demand  admittance.  Zerlina  awakes 
The  robbers  and  their  chief  conceal  themselves  in  a  closet, 


"and  Lord  and  Lady  Allcash,  in  dishabille,  come  from  their  chamber  and  demand 
.’an  explanation  of  this  uproar.  Lorenzo  explains,  when  a  noise  is  heard  in  the 
V^closet  where  the  robbers  are  concealed.  Lorenzo  approaches  to  ascertain  the 
i  cause,  when  Fra  Diavolo,  finding  himself  at  the  point  of  detection,  steps  forth,  and, 
-  in  explanation  of  his  appearance  in  such  a  position,  asserts  that  he  had  an  ap¬ 
pointment  with  Zerlina  !  This  announcement,  false  as  it  is,  falls  like  a  thunder- 
VXbolt  on  all.  Zerlina  is  distracted,  Lorenzo  enraged  to  madness,  and,  in  the 


IV 


midst  of  the  confusion,  Fra  Diavolo,  after  promising  to  give  Lorenzo  “  satisfac¬ 
tion”  in  the  morning,  coolly  effects  his  retreat.  His  companions,  however,  are 
n©t  so  fortunate,  and  one  of  them  is  induced,  by  threats  and  menaces,  to  betray 
his  chief. 

In  the  Third  Act,  Fra  Diavolo  is  again  among  the  hills,  a  brigand  chief,  un¬ 
disguised.  He  rejoices  in  his  liberty,  and  anticipates  much  fun  as  well  as  profit 
from  a  meeting  he  has  arranged  between  Lord  and  Lady  Allcash  and  his  own 
band.  In  the  midst  of  his  happiness,  however,  he  finds  himself  betrayed,  en¬ 
snared,  and  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies.  He  falls  from  the  bullet  fired  by  a  Carbi¬ 
neer,  but  not  before  Zerlina’s  fame  has  been  wholly  cleared,  and  she  is  still  to  be 
married  to  Lorenzo,  Lord  and  Lady  Allcash  giving  a  liberal  wedding-present  to 
the  happy  bride. 


\ 


FRA  DIAVOLO ; 

OR, 

THE  INN  OF  TERRACINA. 


ACT  I. 


SCENE  I. — The  entrance-porch  of  an  Italian  Inn.  The  rear 
sustained  by  several  pillars  entwined  with  verdure , 
opens  on  a  gay  romantic  Landscape.  On  the  R.  and 
L.  side  doors  leading  into  the  interior.  Toivards 
the  front ,  L.,  a  table ,  round  which  are  discovered 
drinking  several  Carbineers  in  the  Italian  light- 
horse  uniform.  Lorenzo  stands  apart  without 
partaking  in  their  mirth. 

INTRODUCTORY  CHORUS. 

Drink!  for,  joy  bestowing, 

Around  the  wine  is  flowing ! 

Wine’s  the  soldier’s  shield 
In  the  tented  field ; 

From  all  fear  it  guards  him ! 

And  with  fame  rewards  him  ! 

Glory’s  path  while  bravely  pursuing. 

Love  and  wine  his  toils  repay ; 

Danger’s  approach,  he  smiles  as  he’s  viewing, 

Love  and  wine  can  all  his  pains  allay ! 

What,  ho  ! — more  wine ! — we  must  be  gay, 

Drink!  &c.,  &c. 

First  Carb.  One  health  more,  comrades — Here’s — “  To  our 
speedy  capture  of  Fra  Diavolo !” 


6 


All.  Huzza  !  [They  drink. 

Second  Carb.  He’s  most  aptly  christened  after  his  patron  saint ! 
It’s  a  sure  thing  his  dingy  majesty  of  the  lower  regions  never  had 
a  more  hopeful  recruit. 

Third  Carb.  He’s  the  very  King  of  banditti. 

First  Carb.  If  we  are  lucky  enough  to  lay  hold  on  him,  Signor 
Lorenzo,  it  seems  that  our  reward  is  to  be — 

Lor.  Six  thousand  ducats. 

All.  Six  thousand ! — 

Lor.  Nothing  less. 

All.  Huzza  1 

First  Carb.  He's  the  best  prize  in  all  Italy !  {Rising.)  March 
us  on,  captain,  in  pursuit  of  the  valuable  villain.  But  stay — sup¬ 
pose,  comrades,  we  empty  another  jug  to  our  success? 

All.  Bight — another  jug ;  another  jug ! — Ho  !  Landlord4! 
Matteo — House ! — 

[Calling  noisily,  and  knocking  on  the  table. 

[Enter  Mat.  with  more  wine  from  the  house. 
Zer.  steals  in  after  him,  and,  unperceived, 
hides  behind  one  of  the  pillars. 

Mat.  Here,  gentlemen !  here — I  anticipate  your  wishes.  Ho 
you  find  money,  I’ll  find  you  drink.  {Looking  into  the  empty  jugs 
on  the  table.)  Bravo ! — By  Bacchus,  there’s  no  thirst  like  a 
soldier’s.  But,  Master  Lorenzo,  since  you  stand  treat,  why  don’t 
you  take  a  glass  along  with  them  ? 

Lor.  Not  I.  Drink  on,  comrades ; — never  heed  me. 

First  Carb.  {In  a  half  voice  to  his  companions.)  Our  captain  is 
plague  melancholy !  What  is  it  ails  him  ? 

Mat.  {Aside.)  I  know  well  enough  what  ails  him,  poor  fellow! 
But  I  can’t  help  it — I  must  do  my  duty.  {To  the  soldiers.)  Gentle¬ 
men,  since  you  are  naturally  fond  of  merry  doing— good  eating 
and  immoderate — I  mean  moderate  drinking,  I  think  you  will 
have  no  objection  to  my  present  invitation.  To-morrow,  I  marry 
my  daughter,  Zerlina,  to  Francesco  Verona,  the  rich  young  farmer 
of  the  next  village.  You  must  be  present  at  the  wedding.  I  in¬ 
vite  you  all. 

Lor.  {Aside,  with  strong  emotion.)  I’ll  sooner  die  than  behold 
the  cursed  moment. 

Carb.  Wine  !  more  wine ! 

Mat.  What!  already! — Bless  their  swallow!  There’ll  not  be  a 


7 


drop  left  for  the  wedding!  Well,  well — I’ll  go  and  fetch  one  jug 
more,  and  rare  wine  you’ll  find  it,  I  warrant ;  for  I  may  boldly 
say,  there’s  nobody  in  these  parts  sells  such  stuff  as  I  do. 

[Exit,  carrying  with  him  the  empty  vessels. 

Zer.  ( Coming  down  R.  of  Lor.)  Lorenzo,  are  you  going  to  leave 
us  ? 

Lor.  Yes,  Zerlina — I  must  to  the  mountains,  and  destroy  the 
horde  of  bandits  that  infest  them.  May  I  never  return,  but  having 
discharged  a  soldier’s  duty,  find  a  soldier’s  grave  ! 

Zer.  Lorenzo! 

Lor.  You  are  going  to  become  the  wife  of  another ; — ’tis  your 
father’s  command.  I  am  too  poor  to  obtain  you — what  have  I  to 
wish  for  but  death  ? 

Zer.  I  am  not  yet  another’s,  Lorenzo,  and  if  fortune — 

Lor.  No  more.  Delude  me  not  with  a  hope  which  it  would  be 
folly  to  indulge. 


SONG. 

Lorekzo. 

Vainly,  alas  !  thoud’st  soothe  the  pang  I  feel ; — 

Fond  love  betray’d  what  hope  can  ne’er  restore ! 

Death,  death  alone  my  grief  may  heal ; — 

Farewell ! — perhaps  for  evermore ! 

Wealth  I  have  none,  thy  father’s  only  care, 

Therefore  I  lose  all  on  earth  I  adore, 

My  only  wealth  is  the  love  to  thee  I  bear ; 

Farewell ! — perhaps  for  evermore ! 

Tho’  thou  forsak’st  me  I  still  will  faithful  prove, 

Still  on  thy  head  every  bliss  I’ll  implore  : 

Hence  duty  calls  me.  My  first,  my  only  love — 

Farewell ! — perhaps  for  evermore ! 

[He  retires  to  the  soldiers. 

First  Carb.  Honored  Captain,  take  but  one  cup  with  us ;  it 
will  be  an  omen  of  success. 

Lor.  ( Snatching  up  a  cup.)  Come ;  victory  or  death ! 

All.  ( Starting  up.)  Victory  or  death  ! 

Mat.  ( Putting  out  his  head.)  Bravo,  gentlemen.  I  beg  to  be 
allowed  to  drink  to  the  toast  also.  Victory  to  you.  Death  to 
Fra  Diavolo  !  [He  drinks. 


8 


[A  loud  noise  is  suddenly  heard  without.  All 
hasten  to  the  top  of  the  stage,  and  look 
out ;  two  or  three  of  the  Carbineers  go  out 
and  line  the  passage.  The  noise  comes 
nearer,  and  Lord  and  Lady  Allcash,  in 
the  greatest  agitation  and  alarm,  are  seen 
hastily  entering  down  the  declivity.  The 
servants  of  the  Inn  come  out  also. 

CONCERTED  PIECE. 

Lord  and  Lady  A. 

(rive  us  help ! — they’re  at  hand 
We’ve  escaped  the  whole  band! 

Lor.,  Zer.,  Mat.,  Carbs. 

Why  this  noise  ?  What  danger  is  near  ? 

Signor  Brigadier  ? 

What  means  your  flight  ? 

What  alarms  you  thus  ?  let  me  hear. 

I’m  almost  chok’d  with  rage ! 

And  I  am  dead  with  fright ! 

[Lady  A.  has  been  conducted  to  a  seat.  Zer. 
hastens  to  her ;  Mat.  offers  her  a  smelling 
bottle,  &c.,  &c.  Zer.  brings  her  a  glass  of 
water  on  a  plate,  from  a  table. 

Lord  A.  ( Going  to  Lady  A.  with  ludicrous  tenderness.) 

Dearest  Angel! — Arabella! — Upon  your  love  recline! 

[Turning  to  Lor. 

She’s  my  wife,  sir — and  her  nerves  are  delicately  fine ! 

Lady  A.  ( Rising  up  with  langour  and  difficulty.) 

Oh  !  what  a  frightful  land  for  strangers ! 

At  every  step  assail’d  by  dangers. 

A  daring  robber’s  band, 

Plundering  on  every  hand, 

Now  terror  spreads  o’er  all  the  land ! 

To  Italy,  France,  or  Spain, 

I  will  never  come  again ! 

Of  my  richly  furnish’d  cases, 

Of  my  diamonds,  pearls,  and  laces. 

Where,  alas !  are  now  the  traces  ? 

All’s  the  prey  of  a  wild  brigand  ! 


Lord  A. 
Lor. 

Lord  A. 
Lady  A. 


9 


’Tis  enough,  my  lord,  to  grieve  me. 

And  my  fate  I  must  deplore ; — 

Let  us  home,  and  thence  believe  me, 

I  will  never  travel  more  ! 

Lord  and  Lady  A. 

No,  no,  I  will  no  longer  stay 

Where  constant  dangers  thus  arise ! 

No,  no — no,  no — we’ll  go  away  ! 

Experience  ought  to  make  us  wise  I 

Lor.  and  Carbs. 

The  bandit  chieftain,  as  they  say, 

Conceal’d  near  yonder  mountain  lies ; 

On,  then,  without  delay, 

To  gain  the  sough t-for  prize ! 

Zer.  and  Mat. 

I  tremble  if  they  truly  say, 

The  bandit  near  our  mountain  lies ! 

Spreading  around  dismay. 

He  ev’ry  danger  defies. 

Lord  A.  (To  Lor.)  Signor  Brigadier,  I  summon  you,  in  the 
name  of  justice,  to  take  cognizance  of  this  shocking,  positively 
shocking,  outrage. 

Lor.  I  am  ready  to  hear  you,  sir,  and  willing  to  redress  you. 

Lord  A.  I  have  the  honor,  I  must  premise  to  you,  of  being  an 
English  nobleman,  making  the  tour  of  Italy  with  my  lady  here, 
for  divers  reasons.  Firstly,  because  it’s  fashionable  to  spend  one’s 
money  from  home ;  secondly,*  because,  being  newly  married,  I  didn’t 
well  know  what  to  do,  and  thirdly,  because  hearing  so  much  about 
Italy  and  your  volcanoes,  I  thought  we  should  find  something  pretty 
and  entertaining  to  look  at;  but,  Signor  Brigadier,  your  country  is 
shocking,  positively  shocking. 

Lor.  I  am  sorry,  my  Lord,  that - 

Lord  A.  Oh,  so  am  I !  very  sorry,  very  sorry  I  ever  came  into 
it£  and  shall  be  very  glad  to  get  safe  out  of  it,  which  isn’t  very 
easy,  considering  one  runs  the  risk  every  hour  of  having  one’s 
throat  cut  in  it.  It’s  scarcely  a  mile  off  that  our  postillion  was 
stopped. 

Lady  A.  Yes,  by  a  band  of  robbers. 

Lor.  What  road  did  they  take  ? 


10 


Lord  A.  Why,  that  I  can’t  exactly  say ;  for  when  they  attacked 
the  carriage  I  was  fast  asleep,  by  the  side  of  my  wife. 

Lady  A.  Yes,  and  I  must  say,  my  Lord,  you  do  but  little  else  now 
than  sleep ;  you’ve  got  quite  a  habit  of  it;  and  I’m  sure,  as  I  often 
tell  you,  something  or  another  will  happen  to  you  in  consequence. 

Lor.  And  what  did  the  banditti  rob  you  of? 

Lord  A.  All  they  could  get.  They  rummaged  my  carriage  from 
top  to  bottom,  searched  every  corner,  felt  me  all  over,  and  turned 
out  my  pockets ;  then  they  felt  my  Lady  all  over,  and — 

Lady  A.  'Yes,  and  took  from  me  all  my  sweet  diamonds. 

Lord  A.  The  richest  jewels  you  ever  saw. 

Lady  A.  And  so  becoming  ! 

Lord  A.  True,  my  dear ;  I  shall  never  fancy  you  half  so  beau, 
tiful  without  them. 

Lor.  ’Tis  the  band  we’re  in  pursuit  of — that  of  Fra  Diavolo. 
Which  way  did  they  disappear  ? 

Lord  A.  They  vanished  toward  the  mountains,  along  with  our 
diamonds. 

Lor.  Come,  gentlemen,  forward  !  The  stirrup-cup,  and  to 
horse. 

[Matteo,  assisted  by  the  servants,  pours  out 
drink  for  the  soldiers. 

Zer.  {Approaching  Lor.,  and  in  an  under  voice.)  Lorenzo,  this 
dreadful  robber — so  fierce — so  desperate !  Should  any  misfortune 
befall  you — ! 

Lor.  There  was  a  time  I  cared  for  life,  but  now — 

Zer.  LoreRzo ! 

Lor.  To-morrow  makes  you  another’s ;  your  duty  to  your  father 
has  conquered  your  love  for  me.  I’ll  not  upbraid  you  for  it 
Farewell ! 

Zer.  {Agitated.)  You  will  live!  you  will  live!  I  will  breathe 
unceasing  prayers  to  heaven  for  your  safety. 

Lor.  Prayer !  yes — pray  that  to-morrow  it  will  not  be  in  my 
power  to  behold  your  marriage. 

Zer.  What  mean  you  ? 

Lor.  ( Wiping  away  a  tear.)  Come !  come !  duty  before  all.  My 
Lord  I  look  to  bring  you  back  fair  tidings.  Fare  you  well,  father 
Matteo!  Farewell,  Zerlina !  {To  his  soldiers.)  March! 

[Music — Exit  Lor.,  with  his  party,  up  the 
declivity. 


11 


Lord  A.  The  Signor  Brigadier  seems  very  agitated  about  the 
business.  This  diabolical  Fra  Diavolo  frightens  everybody. 

Mat.  You  are  under  a  mistake,  my  Lord.  Brigadier  Lorenzo 
is  a  stranger  to  fear ;  his  heart  is  Koman.  He  has,  young  as  he  is, 
seen  much  active  service,  and  the  brave  fellow  has  only  one  fault. 

Lord  A.  And  what  is  that ! 

Mat.  He  is  in  love,  and  has  no  fortune  but  his  military  pay, 
and  gun  shots  in  perspective. 

Lord  A.  Shocking  !  positively  shocking  ! 

Mat.  Why,  it  is  but  a  poor  income,  indeed  (Looking  at  his 
daughter.)  Come,  Zerlina,  clear  away  the  bottles  and  glasses. 

[The  men  servants  of  the  Inn  taking  away 
the  things. 

Lord  A.  (Aside.)  I’ll  try  if  I  can’t  inspire  the  people  hereabouts 
with  a  little  courage,  by  means  of  my  purse.  Here,  good  Master 
Host !  please  to  draw  me  out  a  little  advertisement,  and  post  it  up 
everywhere,  offering  a  reward  to  whosoever  shall  return  to  us  the 
property  we  have  lost. 

Mat.  Most  willingly,  Signor. 

[Mat.  sits  down  at  the  table,  from  the  drawer 
of  which  he  pulls  out  pen,  ink,  and  paper, 
and  begins  writing,  while  Lord  A.  seems 
to  dictate  to  him. 

Lady  A.  (Addressing  Zer.,  who  is  sitting  disconsolate  in  a 
corner .)  What !  crying  Miss  Zerlina  ?  Come  tell  me  your  sorrow. 

Zer.  (Rising  and  drying  her  tears.)  Mine,  madam?  I  have 
none. 

Lady  A.  Yes,  yes,  you  have.  Ah  !  you  can’t  easily  deceive  me 
in  those  matters.  (Archly.)  I  saw  a  certain  young  Brigadier,  as 
he  went  away,  cast  a  certain  look  to  a  certain  pretty  girl,  that  said 
plain  enough,  “  Zerlina,  how  I  love  you !” 

.  Zer.  (Alarmed  and  confused?)  Madam! 

Lady  A.  Well  child!  and  where’s  the  harm!  I  like  to  see  those 
things.  True  tenderness  is  so  captivating !  My  Lord  and  I  are 
an  example.  We  married  for  love,  and  a  love-match  is  such  a 
sweet  thing!  (Simpering  tenderly  to  Lord  A.)  Isn’t  it,  my 
Lord  ?  (Seeing  that  he  dosen’t  answer ,  angrily.)  My  Lord  ! 

Lord  A.  (Busy  at  the  table  with  Mat.)  Zounds !  you  see  I’m 
occupied  and  you  will  plague  me !  I’m  drawing  up  a  proclama¬ 
tion,  offering  a  reward.  (To  Mat.)  You  have  put  down  that  I 
promised  to  give  three  hundred  ducats. 


J 


12 


Lady  A.  Three  hundred  ?  It  isn’t  half  enough,  my  Lord.  ( To 
Mat.)  Put  down,  sir,  one  thousand  ducats.  My  case  of  diamonds 
was  well  worth  twenty  thousand,  and  its  being  lost  is  nobody’s 
fault,  my  Lord,  but  yours.  You  would  take  the  bye-road  across 
the  country. 

Lord  A.  I  had  my  reasons  for  that,  Lady  A.  1  was  determined 
to  get  rid  of  that  oyer-gallant  cavalier,  who,  these  few  days  past, 
has  seemed  bent  upon  following  us  everywhere,  and  intruding  him¬ 
self  on  our  notice,  and  even  stopping  at  the  same  inns. 

Lady  A.  I  couldn’t  help  the  man’s  traveling  the  same  road, 
could  I  ? 

Lord  A.  But  you  might  have  helped  looking  at  the  man, 
couldn’t  you  ?  And  you  might  also,  I  think,  have  helped  yester¬ 
day  evening  talking  with  him,  and  singing  that  eternal  barcarole, 
which  I  detest  from  my  very  soul. 

Lady  A.  He  was  only  trying  to  teach  it  to  me. 

[When  Mat.  has  finished  writing  out  a  couple 
of  copies,  Zer.  takes  them  from  him,  and 
with  some  wafers  fixes  them  up  conspicuously 
on  two  of  the  pillars,  inside  and  outside; 
Mat.  posts  up  the  other  two,  and  they  both 
keep  pacing  backwards  and  forwards  during 
the  ensuing  duet  between  Lord  and 
Lady  A. 

Lord  A.  I  won’t  have  any  man  teach  you  anything.  You  know 
quite  enough  already,  without  extending  your  knowledge  by  foreign 
instructions. 

Lady  A.  ( Pettishly .)  I  suppose,  my  Lord,  it’s  a  crime  to  indulge 
in  a  little  innocent  music  ? 

Lord  A.  You  are  never  anxious  to  indulge  in  a  little  innocent 
music  with  me  ? 

Lady  A.  Your  Lordship  has  spoiled  my  taste  for  matrimonial 
duets  by  their  monotony.  But  I  trust  I  may  be  permitted  a  little 
harmless  singing  and  playing  whenever  I  please. 

Lord  A.  I  have  no  particular  objection  to  your  playing  music, 
but  I  certainly  have  to  your  playing  the  coquette,  as  you  did  with 
that  forward,  impudent  Marquis,  who — 

Lady  A.  I  the  coquette  ? 

Lord  A.  Yes,  my  Lady,  you,  I  saw  it  plain  enough.  It  was 
shocking  I  positively  shocking !  and  I  here  formally  declare  that  I 
won’t  have  any  more  such  doings. 


13 


Lady  A.  You  won’t  ? 

Lord  A.  That  is,  I  don’t  exactly  say  I  won’t — but  I — I — I  won’t, 
and  there’s  an  end  ! 

Lady.  A.  My  Lord !  my  Lord ! — 

Lord  A.  My  Lady !  may  Lady ! — once  for  all,  let  us  understand 
each  other. 

DUET. 

Lord  A.  I  don’t  object,  I  don’t  object 

To  see  you  ever  pleased  and  gay ; 

And  while  gallants  around  you  play, 

That  you  your  husband  should  neglect — 

I  don’t  object,  I  don’t  object, — 

But,  ’sdeatli '!  to  meet  where’er  I  go, 

An  impudent  annoying  beau, 

Whose  evil  motives  I  suspect — 

I  do  object,  I  do  object, — 

Oh,  yes,  to  that  I  do  object. 

I  don’t  object,  I  don’t  object 
To  pay  for  trinkets  without  end ; — 

Nay,  my  whole  fortune  to  expend 
To  see  you  fashionably  deck’d — 

I  don’t  object,  I  don’t  object; 

But  to  your  seeking  to  make  me 
One  of  those  husbands  whom  we  see 
Forming  so  numerous  a  sect — 

I  do  object,  I  do  object — 

Oh,  yes,  to  that  I  do  object. 

Lady  A.  .  I  don’t  object,  I  don’t  object 

To  be  precise,  and  not  coquette; 

And  not  to  run  you  more  in  debt 
Than  you  in  reason  can  expect — 

I  don’t  object,  I  don’t  object; — 

But  that  a  husband  should  presume 
The  tyrant  ever  to  assume, 

And  dare  to  lecture  and  correct — 

I  do  object,  x  do  object— 

Oh,  yes,  to  that  I  do  object. 

Lord  A.  You  may  object  as  much  as  ever  you  please;  but  let 
me  tell  you  for  all  that,  madam,  that  you  shall  never  again  see  this 


14 


Neapolitan  Marquis — this  persevering  Cicisbeo,  who  has  hitherto 
pursued  us  like  our  shadow,  with  an  insolence,  to  say  the  least  of 
it,  shocking — positively  shocking  ! 

Mat.  Hark !  it’s  the  noise  of  a  carriage.  ( Running  to  look  out.) 
Yes,  it’s  a  landau  stopping  at  my  door.  [Rubbing  his  hands.) 
Delightful!  Some  great  Signor  coming  to  stay  at  my  house 
What  an  honor !  Here  he  is ! 

[Enter  the  Mar. — over  his  dress  a  rich  blue 
cloak,  which  he  wears  open,  and  in  his  hand 
a  military  hat  with  a  white  feather  border. 
The  servants  come  out  also  from  the  Inn. 

Lord  A.  What  do  I  see  ? — Curse  me,  but  it’s  he  again  ! 

Lady  A.  The  Marquis ! 

Mar.  IIow! — my  charming  foreigner! 

QUINTET. 

Mar.  [Aside.)  Oh,  rapture  unbounded! 

Indulgent  fate  new  bliss  prepares ! 

My  hopes  are  well  founded— 

My  joy  her  bosom  shares. 

Lord  A.  [Aside.)  With  wonder  I’m  astounded ! 

Upon  my  wife  see  how  he  stares! 

My  fears  are  well  founded  ! 

To  brave  me  still,  he  dares  ! 

Lady  A.  [Aside.)  With  wonder  I’m  astounded, 

To  trace  our  steps  he  boldly  dares! 

My  doubts  are  well  founded ! 

My  beauty  his  heart  ensnares. 

Zer.  and  Mat.  [Aside.)  With  wonder  they’re  astounded ! 

What  joy  the  Marquis’  look  declares! 

My  doubts  are  wTell  founded, 

This  fair  one’s  chain  he  wears. 

Mat.  [To  Zer.)  Eun,  and  our  noble  guest  attend 

[One  of  the  servants  come  forward  and  receives 
the  Mar.’s  cloak  and  Zer.  takes  his  hat, 
which  she  gives  the  other  servant. 

Mar.  There’s  no  haste. — I’ll  make  some  delay. 

[They  go  off,  while  the  other  two  begin  to  cover  the  table. 

I’ve  traveled  tar,  so  I  intend 
Until  to  morrow  here  to  stay. 


15 


Lord  A.  {To  his  wife .)  There !  —There !  You  hear  ? 

The  case  is  clear ! 

No  further  now  he  means  to  go — 

’Tis  all  on  your  account,  I  know. 

Mar.  {Aside.)  Hope,  with  cheering  beam. 

Now-smiles  on  my  scheme ; 

While  love  and  fortune  seem 

,  Both  kind  also  to  prove  ! 

Lady  A,  {Aside).  Who  can  thoughts  confine? 

He  thinks  me  divine ! 

’Tis  sure  no  fault  of  mine  1 
If  with  me  he’s  in  love ! 

Zee.  {Aside.)  Yes,  from  out  his  eyes ! 

Love’s  flame  brightly  flies  ! 

To  hear  his  tender  sighs 
Her  heart  fain  would  he  move. 

(Together.) 
f  hopes  ) 

My  •<  doubts  >  are  well  founded. 

(  fears  ) 

[At  the  end  of  the  above  Quintet,  Lord  A. 
forces  his  wife  into  the  inn.  She  curtseys 
to  the  Marquis  as  she  goes  out.  A  little 
before,  two  of  the  servants  of  the  inn  have 
laid  a  cloth,  wine,  fruit,  and  bread  upon  the 
table,  at  which  the  Mar.  sits  does  when  the 
Quintet  is  finished. 

Mat.  {Left  hand  of  the  table  with  a  towel  in  his  hand.)  Come. 
ZER,,be  smart  and  stir  about.  Wait  upon  my  noble  lord,  the  Marquis 
{One  of  the  two  servants  presents  Zee.  with  a  plate,  and  a  folded 
napkin  on  it,  to  wait  upon  the  gue'*t.)  I  hope,  Signor,  that  you  will 
be  satisfied  with  the  attention  of  my  people  and  of  my  daughter 
here,  whom  I  must  leave  mistress  of  the  house,  as  I  am  obliged  to 
absent  myself  from  it  for  the  night. 

Mar.  Ah,  you  leave  home,  landlord  ?  {Pouring  out  a  glass,  <&c., 
and  beginning  to  eat.) 

Mat.  Yes,  your  Signory,  almost  directly.  I  am  going  to  sleep 
two  leagues  off  at  the  farm  of  my  son-in-law,  that  is  to  be, — young 
Francesco  Yeroni,  whom  I  shall  bring  here  to-morrow  with  the 
whole  wedding  party. 


10 


Zee.  (Aside.)  Lorenzo! 

Mat.  We  shall  have  a  merry  time  of  it,  for  to-morrow  is  the 
greatest  holiday  we  have — Easter  Sunday  :  and  who  weds  on  that 
day,  they  say,  has  less  to  repent  of  than  upon  any  other. 

Mae.  (Continuing  to  eat.)  Have  you  many  in  your  inn  just 
now  ? 

Mat.  Only  yourself,  Signor,  and  the  outlandish  gentleman  and 
lady  you  beheld  just  now. 

Mae.  No  others?  (After  a  moment's  reflection.)  The  lady  ?s 
handsome, — but  the  lord,  her  husband,  seems  somewhat  sour- 
tempered. 

Zee.  That’s  not  to  be  wondered  at,  Signor;  he  has  been  attacked 
and  rifled  by  the  bandits  of  the  mountains. 

Mae.  (Eating  all  the  time.)  Can’t  be  ! — I’ve  no  faith  m  robbers. 

Mat.  I  have,  though ;  as  much  faith  as  in  our  Lady  of  the  Green 
Palms,  our  holy  patroness.  (Signing  himself  with  a  cross. ) 

Mae.  Mere  stories  to  fright  travelers.  I  have  passed  the  moun¬ 
tains  by  day  and  by  night,  and  I  have  never  been  attacked. 

Mat.  Like  enough,  formerly;  but  ever  since  Fra  Diavolo  has 
fixed  his  infernal  quarters  in  the  neighborhood — 

Mae.  Era  Diavolo! — Why,  who’s  he  ? 

Zee.  How !  Have  you  never  heard  of  him,  Signor  ? 

Mat.  Not  heard  of  Fra  Diavolo  ? 

Zee.  He’s  a  famous  robber. 

Mat.  Who  is  everywhere  at  once! 

Zee.  And  whom  nobody  can  come  up  with  ! 

Mat.  lie  wears  an  amulet  about  him,  which  he  stole  from  a 
Cardinal,  which  renders  him  invisible ! 

Mae.  Only  think  of  that ! 

Zee.  And  the  balls  shot  against  him  rebound  from  his  skin ! 

Mat.  Is  it  possible  ! 

Zee.  Oh,  it’s  true,  Signor!  His  daring  adventures  would  fill 
up  a  hundred  books,  and  as  the  song  says — 

Mae.  What !  there’s  a  song  too  about  him,  is  there  ? 

Mat.  Oh,  a  famous  one; — all  in  honor  of  him — twenty-two 
stanzas. 

Mae.  How  many  ? 

Mat.  Twenty-two.  If  my  lord  would  like,  during  his  repast,  to 
hear — 

Mae.  Is  one  obliged  to  hear  the  whole  of  it  ? 

Mat.  That’s  just  as  people  choose;  nobody  is  forced. 


IT 


Mar.  Oh,  well !  Come,  then,  let’s  hear  it  ? 

Mat.  ( Detaching  a  mandolin  from  the  wall ,  and  handing  it  to 
his  daughter .)  Here  girl ! 

Zee.  ( Declining  it,  and  laying  it  by  her  on  the  corner  of  the 
table.)  Thanks,  father !  I  can  sing  it  very  well  without. 

SONG. 

On  yonder  rock  reclining, 

That  fierce  and  swarthy  form  behold! 

Fast  his  hand  his  carbine  hold: 

’Tis  his  best  friend  of  old. 

This  way  his  steps  inclining, 

His  scarlet  plume  o’ershades  his  brow, 

And  his  velvet  cloak  hangs  low, 

Playing  in  a  graceful  flow. 

Tremble! — E’en  while  the  storm  is  beating, 

Hear  echo  afar  repeating — 

Diavolo!  Diavolo!  Diavolo! 

Altho’  his  foes  waylaying, 

He  fights  with  rage  and  hate  combined ; 

Towards  the  gentle  fair,  they  find 
He’s  ever  mild  and  kind. 

The  maid  too  heedless  straying, 

(For  one,  we  Pietro’s  daughter  know,) 

Home  returns  full  sad  and  slow — 

What  can  have  made  her  so  ? 

Tremble ! — Each  one  the  maiden  meeting, 

Is  sure  to  be  repeating — 

Diavolo !  Diavolo  !  Diavolo ! 

Mar.  (Rising  suddenly  and  singing  the  concluding  verse.} 

While  thus  his  deeds  accusing, 

Let  justice,  too,  at  least  be  shown, — 

All  that’s  lost  here  let  us  own, 

Mayn’t  be  his  prize  alone. 

Full  oft  his  name  abusing, 

Perchance  some  young  and  rustic  beau, 

Whilst  his  hopes  with  conquest  glow, 

At  beauty’s  shrine  bows  low. 

Tremble ! — Each  sighing  lover  dread, 

For  of  him  more  truly  may  be  said — 

Diavolo!  Diavolo!  Diavolo! 


18 


[At  the  conclusion  of  the  song,  the  Mar. 
retakes  his  seat  at  the  table,  Bep.  and  Gia. 
appear  from  L.,  at  the  centre  pillars  at  the 
top  of  the  stage,  their  cloaks  about  them. 

Zer.  (P receiving  them ,  and  with  a  sudden  alarm.)  Ha !  who  are 
these  men  ? 

Mat.  How  now  ?  What  seek  ye  here  ? 

Bep.  (. Advancing  on  the  L.  of  Zer.,  with  Gia.  at  his  left,  very 
humbly .)  Hospitality  for  the  night. 

Gia.  In  the  name  of  our  Lady  of  the  Green  Palms. 

Mat.  Go  to  the  Devil!  D’ye  think  its  our  custom  to  shelter 
beggars  and  vagabonds  ? 

Bep.  We  are  poor  pilgrims. 

Zer.  ( Interceding .)  Dear  father,  should  they  speak  the  truth — 

Mat.  Pooh,  nonsense,  girl !  Pilgrims  dressed  in  that  manner? 

Bep.  We  are  on  our  pilgrimage  to  fulfill  a  vow. 

Mat.  What  vow  ? 

Gia.  That  of  making  our  fortunes. 

Mat.  Carry  your  ill-looking  faces  further,  then,  for  you  certainly 
won’t  make  it  here. 

Mar.  ( Rising ,  and  opening  his  purse,  from  which  he  takes  out  a 
few  pieces.)  Who  knows  ?  perhaps  they  may.  Here,  honest  friends, 
take  ye  this.  I  bestow  my  alms  upon  you  in  the  name  of  this  fair 
creature. 

Bep.  and  Gia.  ( Taking  the  money  and  inclining  themselves.) 
Oh,  noble  Marquis. 

Mat.  How! — Why,  noble  Signor,  they  know  you! 

Mar.  Yes — they’re  a  couple  of  poor  devils  whom  I  met  on  the 
road  this  morning,  and  whom  I’ve  already  relieved  once.  Master 
landlord,  to  finish  my  work  of  charity,  I  will  pay  for  their  supper 
and  beds. 

Mat.  It  will  be  a  crown  a  head. 

Mar.  Ahead!  That’s  more  than  both  their  heads  are  worth, 
perhaps; — but  no  matter.  There,  my  host. 

Mat.  ( Receiving  the  money.)  Since  My  Lord  Marquis  conde¬ 
scends  to  favor  them,  they  need  no  other  recommendation. 

Zer.  Father,  shall  they  be  lodged  in  the  loft  ?  [Pointing  R. 

Mat.  Not  in  the  house  ; — no,  no — particularly  as  I  shall  be  out 
of  it.  Here,  Roberto !  give  them  a  slice  of  something  to  eat,  and 
afterwards  show  them  yourself  into  the  barn  there  close  by.  {To 
the  other  servants.)  The  rest  of  ye  go  in  and  get  ready  the  supper 


19 


for  the  English  lord  and  his  lady.  ( Exeunt  servants — To  Zee.) 
You,  my  child,  shall  come  with  me,  a  part  of  my  road,  as  far  as  the 
Hermitage,  and  we  will  chat  a  little  about  your  bridegroom.  I 
have  the  honor  to  take  my  leave,  Signor  Marquis.  I  hope  when  I 
return  to-morrow  morning  with  my  new  son-in-law,  that  I  shall 
find  your  Signory  still  here. 

Mar.  I  hope  so  too  ;  I  rise  very  late.  Farewell,  good  host !  A 
pleasant  journey  to  you. — Adieu,  my  pretty  dear. 

[Zer.,  when  addressed  by  her  father,  has  gone 
and  taken  down  his  hat  from  the  wall,  and 
presented  it  to  him,  along  with  his  cane.  She 
then  gives  him  her  arm,  and  exit  with  him. 

[The  Mar.  has  sat  down  at  the  corner  of  the 
table,  using  his  tooth-pick.  Bep.  and  Gia. 
look  cautiously  around  to  see  if  all  are  gone, 
and  then  approach  the  table,  one  on  the  left 
hand,  and  the  other  on  the  right. 

Bep.  ( Talcing  up  the  bottle ,  and  pouring  himself  out  a  glass  of 
wine.)  Here’s  your  health.  [ To  the  Mar. 

Mar.  ( With  haughty  surprise.)  What  ? 

Bep.  I  say  your  health. 

Mar.  What  means  this  impertinence  ?  (Talcing up  the  mandolin 
and  aiming  a  blow  at  him ;  he  escapes  it,  leaving  the  wine  un¬ 
drunk?) 

Gia.  (Talcing  off  hat.)  Excuse  me,  Captain;  he’s  a  raw  recuit 
who  doesn’t  yet  know  the  respect  due  to  you.  (In  a  low  voice  to 
Bep.  behind .)  Why  don’t  you  take  off  your  hat  ?  (Bep.  takes  it 
off.)  He’s  not  yet  quite  up  in  our  ways,  but  he’s  of  excellent 
promise,  and  sure  to  do  honor  to  his  profession  with  a  little 
practice.  He  was  a  steward  lately  in  a  great  house,  but  he’s  now 
determined  to  act  like  a  brave  fellow,  and  rob  openly. 

Mar.  Yes,  but  it’s  not  enough  to  be  brave  alone,  ’tis  necessary 
to  have  some  manners  and  a  little  knowledge  of  life.  There  cer¬ 
tainly  never  was  seen,  in  its  beginning,  a  more  rude  and  disorderly 
troop  than  that  which  I  have  the  honor  to  command!  The  most 
ill-bred  rascals  that  ever — (Rising,  and  talcing  the  stage  to  the  right 
'hand.)  If  I  hadn’t  introduced  among  them  a  little  order  and  dis¬ 
cipline  !  (To  Gia., pointing  to  a  decanter  on  the  table ,  and  turning 
up  his  sleeves.)  Some  water !  (Gia.  instantly  pours  the  water  over 
the  Mar.s’  hands  as  he  holds  them  over  a  water  glass.)  I’ll  tell  you 


20 


what,  my  facetious  friend — ( To  Bep.  whilst  washing  his  hands ) — 
the  first  familiarity  you  honor  me  with,  I’ll  blow  your  brains  out ; 
that  will  be  a  lesson  to  you. 

Bep.  How  ! — a  pretty  lesson,  indeed!  Blow  my — 

Gia.  ( Putting  back  the  water  on  the  table.)  He’ll  do  it  as  sure  as 
you  live. 

Bep.  ( Frightened .)  Hey! 

Mar.  A  towel !  (Bep.  hastens  to  give  it  him  ;  the  Mar.  dries  his 
hands ,  and  throws  it  on  the  table  ;  takinq  the  stage  again  to  right 
hand.)  What  news  is  there,  and  what  brings  ye  here  ? 

Bep.  ( With  his  hat  off.)  Our  enterprise  has  succeeded.  We’ve 
stopped  the  English  Milord,  and  his  diamonds. 

Mar.  Think  ye  I’m  ignorant  of  that  ? — I  know  it  well  enough. 

Gia.  All  the  information  you  gave  us,  Captain,  have  proved 
exact  to  the  letter. 

Mar.  I  believe  ye.  It’s  now  three  days  since  I’ve  been  following 
their  steps,  watching  their  movements,  dining  with  them  in  the 
same  inns,  and  every  evening  singing  barcaroles  with  my  lady. 
You  think,  I  suppose,  there’s  no  labor  in  all  that. 

Gia.  We  know  well  enough,  noble  Captain,  all  that  you  do  for 
us. 

Mar.  Then  be  grateful,  ye  hounds,  and,  above  all,  obedient.  But 
tell  me,  didn’t  my  lord  defend  himself,  and  haven’t  we  lost  some  of 
our  people  ? 

Gia.  No,  Captain  ;  on  the  contrary,  we  gained  a  brother.  The 
postillion  turns  out  to  be  an  old  comrade,  who  quitted  us,  and  who 
now  asks  to  enlist  with  us  afresh. 

Mar.  Ha!  he  quitted  us,  did  he  ? 

Gia.  Yes,  Captain. 

Mar.  Is  he  in  your  hands  ? 

Gia.  He  is. 

Mar.  ( Coolly  settling  his  neckcloth  in  a  pocket-glass.)  Let  him 
be  shot.  I  don’t  like  inconstancy — I  mean  in  our  profession; 
towards  the  fair,  that’s  quite  another  thing ;  and  since,  thanks  to 
my  Lord,  we  are  rich  in  diamonds,  let  a  set  of  the  brightest  be  sent 
to  Fiorina,  the  young  opera  singer  under  my  protection.  I  love  to 
patronize  the  fine  arts,  and  particularly  music. 

Gia.  It  shall  be  done,  Captain.  9 

Mar.  Well !  haven’t  you  told  me  all  ? 

Gia.  No,  truly,  Captain ,  and  we're  very  much  afraid  that  we’ve 
been  taken  in. 


21 


Mar.  Ay,  ay !  Pray,  how  is  that  ? 

Gia.  The  money  box  which  you  informed  us  of,  and  which  we 
were  to  find  in  the  Lord’s  carriage — 

Mar.  ( Anxiously .)  Twenty  thousand  gold  pieces,  which  he  was 
going  to  bank  at  Leghorn — at  least  so  his  lady  told  me.  Well? 

Gia.  ( Shrugging  up  his  shoulders.)  Impossible  to  find  them. 

Mar.  Idiots !  to  miss  such  a  glorious  prize ! 

Bep.  Perhaps  he  spent  them  o’  purpose  to  cheat  us. 

Gia.  Very  like;  there’s  nothing  but  meanness  and  roguery  in 
the  world.  Common  honesty  has  no  followers. 

Bep.  People  nowadays  never  think  of  parting  with  their  money 
handsomely;  you  must  take  it  from  them  nilly  willy! 

Mar.  Silence,  and  begone !  This  it  is  not  to  do  one’s  own  affairs. 
But  I’ll  find  out,  cost  what  it  will,  what  has  become  of  all  that 
gold.  I  see  I  must  have  a  few  more  duets  with  my  lady.  What 
would  these  rascals  do  without  me?  {Looking  at  the  door  of  the 
Inn ,  which  just  then  opens.)  Ha!  by  fortune’s  smiles,  ’tis  she! 
{Perceiving  Bep.  and  Gia.  loitering  at  the  top  of  the  stage.)  How 
now  ?  an’t  ye  gone  ? 

[They  disappear. 

[Enter  Lady  Allcash  from  the  Inn.] 

Lady  A.  {Coming  in  gently.)  My  Lord  has  fallen  asleep  in  his 
arm-chair,  and  the  evening  air  is  so  inviting — 

Mar.  {Advancing.)  Charming  lady ! 

Lady  A.  {Alarmed  and  retreating .)  Ha!  You  here  still,  Signor? 
My  husband  is  only  in  the  next  room.  He’s  fast  asleep  ;  but  he’s 
of  such  a  jealous  disposition!  Oh!  he’s  a  perfect  Othello;  and  if 
he  should  wake  and  see  us  together — 

Mar.  He  cannot  surely  feel  offended  at  our  devoting  a  few 
harmless  moments  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  little  music.  It  has  been 
these  few  happy  evenings  past— happy  at  least  to  me — our  favorite 
pastime.  Your  gentle  heart  delights  in  harmony — so  does  mine. 
See — this  mandolin  that  courts  our  notice,  seems  to  invite  our 
skill.  {Taking  up  the  mandolin  which  Zer.  had  placed  on  the 
corner  of  the  table.)  Come,  let  us  repeat  the  barcarole  which  we 
began  yesternight. 

Lady  A.  {Looking  towards  the  door.)  Ah!  I  hear  him!  He's 
coming ! 

Mar.  {Hastily  snatching  up  the  mandolin  and  beginning :) 


22 


THE  BARCAROLE. 

The  gondolier,  fond  passion’s  slave, 

Will  for  his  love  each  danger  brave; 

Winds  and  waves  both  disdain’d 
Erom  his  lady’s  bright  eyes 

^[Looking  at  Lady  A. 
Be  a  glance  but  the  prize, 

It  is  still  something  gain’d. 

The  gondolier,  fond  passion’s  slave, 

Will  in  his  bark  each  danger  brave. 

By  each  fear  unrestrain’d. 

Erom  the  lips  of  his  fair, 

If  a  smile  soothe  his  care, 

It  is  still  something — 

[Interrupting  himself  suddenly,  he  looks  to¬ 
wards  the  door,  and  seeing  that  no  one 
comes,  he  places  the  mandolin  on  the  table, 
and  passionately  addresses  Lady  A. 

Mar.  Ah,  lovely  stranger!  must  your  heart  remain  ever  insen¬ 
sible  to  the  flame  that  devours  mine  ? 

Lady  A.  ( Trying  to  regain  her  chamber .)  Signor,  I  cannot 
listen — 

Mar.  [Retaining  her.)  I  am  silent,  Madam,  you  may  remain. 
Surely  to  admire  your  perfections  in  silence  cannot  offend  you  ? 

Lady  A.  I  cannot  certainly  help,  nor  hinder  you  admiring  me, 
Signor. 

Mar.  Ah,  Madam !  my  soul  is  a  slave  to  your  unequaled  charms. 
When  I  behold  those  soul-speaking  features — that  ravishing  shape 
— the  modest  taste  and  simple  elegance  of  that  attire — the — ( His 
eyes  suddenly  rivited  in  admiration  upon  a  rich  gold  locket ,  rimmed 
with  diamonds ,  round  Lady  A.’s  neck  hanging  loosely  from  a  black 
ribbon.)  The  beautiful  diamonds! 

Lady  A.  What,  these?  Do  you  know  that  they’re  the  only 
ones  that  escaped  the  robbers !  I  hid  them  with  such  care. 

Mar.  [Aside,  with  vexation .)  Stupid  rascals,  what  a  pity! 
[Turning  to  Lady  A.,  with  a  tone  of  gallantry.)  Ah,  Madam  i 
what  need  of  ornament  hath  beauty  like  yours  ?  Yet  I  confess 
this  is  worthy  of  admiration.  [Taking  it  up  in  his  hand) — and 
the  more  I  look  at  it — does  it  not  contain  something  ? 

Lady  A.  ( Smiling .  Well  guessed.)  You  must  know,  my  bus- 


23 


band  had  it  made  on  purpose  for  himself,  and  it  contains  my  por¬ 
trait.  ( Taking  it  off,  opening  it  and  showing  it  to  the  Mar.)  Do 
you  think  it  like  ? 

Mar.  ( With  affected  ecstacy.)  Heavens !  Can  it  be  ?  ’Tis  nature’s 
self.  Yes,  there  are  the  soft  and  tender  orbs,  that  look  but  to  en¬ 
chant  !  The  lovely  features,  cast  in  the  mould  of  perfect  beauty ! 
It  moves — it  speaks — it  fills  my  soul  with  rapture  !  ( Changing  to 

sudden  rage.)  And  shall  a  tyrant  husband,  a  barbarian,  a  sense¬ 
less  rival,  possess  such  a  treasure?  No!  [Putting  the  locket  in 
his  bosom.)  Never !  never ! 

Lady  A.  ( Astonished .)  Sir !  What  is’t  you  do  ? 

Mar.  I  will  keep  it  from  his  hands. 

Lady  A.  ( Trying  to  regain  it.)  But,  Sir - 

Mar.  I  will  never  part  with  it ! 

Lady  A.  Signor,  I  request - 

Mar.  It  shall  remain  forever  close  to  my  heart !  It  is  in  vain 
to  ask  it  from  me.  It  is  too  valuable  for  me  ever  to  give  it  up! 

Lady  A.  Was  there  ev -  Ha!  here’s  my  husband. 

[The  Mar.  and  Lady  A.  are  close  to  the  table? 
so  that  the  Mar.  can  snatch  up  the  man¬ 
dolin  at  once.  Lord  A.  appears  at  the  door 
of  the  Inn,  when  the  Mar.,  hastily  seizing 
the  mandolin,  continues  the  air  of  the  bar¬ 
carole. 


Mar.  The  gondolier,  fond  passion’s  slave 

Will  through  the  storms  the  billows  brave, 

By  fond  hope  e’^r  sustained ; 

If  at  last  to  his  breast, 

Her  lov’d  image  is  press’d — 

[Pressing  the  picture  to  his  heart. 

It  is  still  something  gain’d  ! 

[Lord  A.,  after  having  listened  awhile  at  the 
threshold,  comes  down  between  them. 


TRIO. 


Lord  A. 
Lady  A. 
Lord  A. 
Lady  A. 
Lord  A. 


Bravi !  bravi !  bravi ! 

Is’t,  you,  my  lord  ? 

’Tis  I,  you  see. 

Did  our  music  break  your  rest  ? 
[Aside.)  The  very  name  I  detest! 


24 


Lady  A.  (Aside.) 

By  music  I’m  ever  delighted ! 

Sweet  charm  of  the  mind ! 

Yet  in  music  my  husband 
No  pleasure  can  find ; 

So,  we’re  never  together 
In  harmony  join’d! 

Lord  A.  (Aside.) 

Together  they’re  ever  united. 

They’re  both  of  one  mind ! 

To  be  pleased  with  their  music 
I’m  little  inclined :  * 

We  can  never  be  together 
In  harmony  joined. 

Mar.  (Aside.) 

By  music’s  sweet  power  excited. 

She’s  growing  more  kind ! 

With  my  lord  how  to  deal 
Speedy  means  I  must  find : 

For  his  wife,  and  his  gold, 

Both  are  much  to  my  mind ! 

[The  servants  take  in  the  tables  quietly. 

Lady  A.  We  were  just  going  to  try  over  the  new  barcarole,  my 
Lord. 

Lord  A.  Very  kind,  indeed,  of  you,  my  Lady,  whilst  I  was 
almost  eaten  up  by  a  swarm  of  mosquitoes !  Besides,  I  think  I 
told  you  before  I  fell  asleep,  to  order  me  some  refreshment. 

Mar.  Well,  my  Lord,  and  surely,  while  you  were  having  your 
refreshment,  we  might  be  having  a  little  music. 

Lord  A.  Yes,  if  I  had  got  any  refreshment ;  but  zounds  !  I  had 
none ;  and  there  was  I  waiting  for  it  all  the  time — and  I  might 
have  waited,  I  see,  long  enough  ! 

Mar.  Nay,  why  didn’t  you  say  so  before,  my  Lord  ?  (• Calling .) 

Within  there !  some  one ! 

Lord  A.  Oh !  there’s  no  occassion  now !  it’s  not  wanted ;  my 
thirst  is  all  gone. 

Mar.  ( With  seeming  concern .)  Doubtless,  my  Lord,  the  loss  of 
your  diamonds  has  taken  it  away. 

Lord  A.  Yes,  that,  and — something  else  besides. 

Mar.  You  alarm  me,  my  Lord.  Has  any  misfortune  happened 


25 


to  the  twenty  thousand  pieces  of  gold  which  you  were  going  to 
deposit  at  Leghorn  ? 

Lord  A.  No,  no — the  fates  be  praised,  I  have  them  still — safe 
enough. 

Mar.  Ah  !  I  breathe  again.  Do  me  the  justice,  my  Lord,  to 
appreciate  my  friendly  anxiety ;  for  I  can  assure  you,  that  had  you 
lost  them,  I  should  have  been  as  seriously  vexed  as  yourself. 

Lady  A.  How  kind  you  are ! 

Mar.  My  only  intention,  in  alluding  to  the  money,  was  to 
make  you  a  free  offer  of  my  pocket-book. 

Lord  A.  I  thank  you,  Marquis — ( drawing  out  his  pocket-book ) — 
•  but  I  have  already  replenished  my  own. 

Mar.  Well,  I  cannot  conceive  how  you  managed  it !  How  in 
the  world’s  name,  my  Lord,  were  you  able  to  save  your  gold. 

Lord  A.  By  a  little  judicious  contrivance  which  I  don’t  intend 
to  tell  anybody. 

Mar.  You  are  certainly  very  clever,  my  Lord! 

Lord  A.  I  believe  you. 

Lady  A.  {To  the  Mar.)  He  changed  the  gold  for  bank  bills,  and 
afterwards  had  them  sewed  up. 

Mar.  Sewed  up!  {Anxiously.)  And  where? 

Lord  A.  {Laughing.)  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Guess,  now! 

Mar.  I  am  very  bad  at  guessing. 

Lord  A.  In  my  coat,  and  iu  my  Lady’s  gown! 

[Touching  her  large  sleeves  at  the  shoulder. 

Mar.  Ho  !  Is  it  possible  !  What?  {Crossing  to  Lady  A.  and  ex¬ 
amining  her  dress.)  Such  a  rich  and  precious  treasure - {Turn¬ 

ing  with  a  laugh  to  Lord  A.)  Ha!  ha!  ha! — Capital,  I  declare! 

Lord  A.  {Also  laughing  heartily .)  Wasn’t  it?  Ha!  ha!  ha! 
Yes,  yes — my  Lady  and  I  were  positively  lined  with  money. 

Mar.  {Aside.)  Thank  you  for  the  knowledge.  [Gains  the  l. 

[At  this  moment  a  warlike  march  is  heard 
without. 

COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  FINAL  OF  THE  FIRST  ACT 

Lord  and  Lady  A.  {Going  to  the  top  of  the  stage  and  looking 
out) 

Hark !  those  sounds ! 

Mar.  What  means  that  warlike  strain  ? 

[Enter  Bep.  and  Gia.  mysteriously. 


26 


Bep.  and  Gia.  ( Aside  to  the  Mar.  in  alarm.) 

A  brigadier  with  arm’d  force. 

On  toward  this  spot  directs  bis  course ! 

Let  us  fly ! 

Mar.  Never ! — cowards !  remain ! 

Bep.  I  quake  with  fear! 

Mar.  What  is  it  ye  dread  ? — Am  I  not  here  ? 

[Enter  Lor.  and  the  Carbineers,  met  and  fol¬ 
lowed  by  a  crowd  of  villagers  and  peasants. 
The  people  of  the  Inn  enter  from  the  second 
wing,  L.,  the  soldiers  range  themselves  to¬ 
wards  the  R.  The  villagers,  peasants,  and 
servants  of  the  Inn  fill  the  back. 

CHORUS. 

Victoria !  Victoria !  Rejoice  ! 

Joy  now  reign  around  ! 

Raise  the  grateful  voice  J 

j-  Come  with  victory  crown’d. 

[Enter  Zer.,  hastily. 

Zer.  { Hastening  joyfully  to  Lor.) 

Again  I  greet  my  friend ! 

Lady  and  Lord  A.  ( Impatiently  to  Lor.) 

Our  anxious  torments  end ! 

Lor.  In  deep  silence  proceeding, 

The  daring  band  we  track’d ; 

And  their  retreat  impeding. 

We  their  numbers  attack’d. 

Mar.  (Aside.)  And  I  was  away ! 

Lor.  With  fury,  first  at  bay, 

Brave  and  dauntless  they  stood  ; 

But,  ere  long,  twenty  lay 
Expiring  in  their  blood. 

Mar.  (Aside.)  Oh,  revenge! 

Lor.  Soon  the  rest  from  us  fly 

In  fear  and  wild  defeat : 

While  thus  our  joyous  cry 
Echoes  around  repeat : 

Victoria ! 


27 


CHORUS. 

Victoria ! — Rejoice ! 

Joy  now  reign  around! 

Raise  the  grateful  voice ! 

|  Come  with  victory  crown’d. 

Lor.  (. Advancing  towards  Lord  A.)  My  Lord,  our  victory  over 
the  banditti  will  afford  you  cause  for  joy,  for  upon  the  body  of  one 
of  the  robbers  whom  we  killed,  I  found  this  rich  treasure.  (He 
takes  the  box  from  one  of  the  men ,  red  morocco  and  gold ,  rather 
large ,  and  idled  with  jewels.) 

Lady  A.  ( Seizing  the  box  with  eager  joy.)  ’Tis  mine  !  Oh,  hap¬ 
piness  ! 

Lord  A.  The  jewels  !  Oh,  kind  fortune ! 

[Lord  and  Lady  A.  open  the  box  to  examine 
its  contents. 

Mar.  (Aside.)  Cursed  fate !  To  lose  at  once  through  him 
(Pointing  to  Lor.),  my  comrades  and  my  prize. 

Bep.  (Aside  to  Gia.)  How,  that’s  a  shameful  robbery — to  go 
and  despoil  the  dead  of  their  property. 

Lor.  And  now,  once  more  farewell ! 

Zer.  (Anxiously.)  Will  you  leave  us  again  so  soon  ? 

Lor.  I  must. 

Zer.  But  wherefore  this  moment  ? 

Lor.  The  chief  of  the  desperate  band  has  contrived  to  escape 
us,  but  we  are  on  his  track,  and  he  cannot  baffle  our  search.  Fare¬ 
well  Zerlina ! 

Lady  A.  Stay,  Signor — one  instant.  (Hurriedly  to  Lord  A.) 
My  Lord  your  pocket-book. 

Lord  A.  Eh !  my  pocket-book  ?  (Drawing  it  out  reluctantly.) 
Pray  why  my  dear  ? 

Lady  A.  Make  haste  my  Lord,  give  it  me.  (She  opens  the 
pocket-book  totkes  out  some  notes  and  addresses  Lor.)  Stgnor 
Captain,  thus  much  at  parting.  My  husband  who  esteems  and 
honors  courage,  is  your  debtor  in  one  thousand  ducats,  which  I 
here  present  you. 

Lor.  (Drawing  back. )  Madam  ! 

Lady  A.  Nay,  only  read  yonder  paper.  (Pointing  to  one  of  the 
placards  affixed  upon  one  of  the  pillars.)  The  reward  is  richly 
merited,  and  shall  be  yours. 


28 


Lor.  ( Putting  lack  the  notes  which  Lady  A.  presses  upon  him.) 
Never,  think  me  not  so  mercenary,  Madam. 

Lady  A.  ( In  a  low  voice  to  him.)  ’Tis  Zerlina’s  portion ;  refuse 
it  not,  but  rather  accept  a  treasure  to-day,  that  you  my  obtain  a 
more  precious  one  to-morrow. 

Zer.  ( Coming  between  them ,  and  taking  the  lank  notes  hastily.) 
I  accept  for  him.  He  is  now,  thank  heaven  !  as  rich  as  his  rival. 

Lor.  (With  joy.)  And  I  may  then — 

Zer.  Seek  my  father — 

Lor.  And  ask  of  him — 

Zer.  Even  to-morrow — 

Lor.  Thy  heart — 

Zer.  And  my  hand — 

Lor.  Joyful  hour! 

Zer.  Happy  destiny ! 

Lor.  ( Gracefully  to  Lady  A.)  Ah,  Madam!  You  have  made  me 
blest  indeed.  A  short  farewell  Zerlina.  Nothing  shall  keep  me 
long  from  thy  presence  ! 

[He  goes  to  his  party,  which  he  marshals  in 
order  for  departure. 

Mar.  (Aside.)  Revenge  shall  overtake  thy  steps  !  Keep  by  me, 
my  friends ;  all’s  yet  in  our  favor.  The  father  of  the  girl  will  be 
absent  all  night;  the  house  is  also  empty,  my  Lord  unarmed. 

Bep.  But  the  soldiers ! 

Mar.  They  are  departing ;  they  are  going  elsewhere  to  surprise 
us. 

Gia.  Ha!  ha!  a  pleasant  journey  to  ’em! 

Mar.  Obey  punctually  the  orders  I  shall  give  ye,  and  to-night 
shall  yield  us  rich  booty,  and  full  vengeance. 

FINAL  RESUMED. 

Lor.  ( To  his  troop.)  Let’s  on ;  to  conquest,  friends !  Again. 

Mar.  (Aside  to  Bep.  and  Gia.)  They  depart.  We  safe  remain. 

Lor.,  Zer.  Farewell ! 

Lor.  and  Zer.  Hope  in  my  heart  once  more  is  smiling; 

Past  ills,  fortune  will  soon  repay  ! 

Mar.,  Bep.,  and  Gia. 

Let  revenge  upon  us  smiling, 

On  to  vengeance  point  the  way! 

Lord  and  Lady  A. 

May  kind  fate  propitious  smiling, 

Guide  him  safely  on  his  way. 


29 


Chorus.  Hope  once  more  upon  them  smiling, 
Every  evil  will  repay ! 

Lor.  and  Zer. 

Love  each  care  now  beguiling, 
Around  us  will  play ! 

Mar.  ( Aside  to  his  companions.) 

Ere  the  dawning  of  day : 

Their  precautions  beguiling, 

.We’ll  make  them  our  prey! 
[Together.] 


Zer.,  Lor.,  and  Chorus. 

Let  each  heart  rejoice  ! 

Pleasure  reign  around ! 
Raise  the  grateful  voice  ! 


We’ll  ) 
They’ll  ] 


Come  with  victory  crown’d! 


Victoria !  Victoria ! 

Still  let  that  cry  aloud  resound ! 

Lord  and  Lady  A. 

We  may  now  rejoice ! 

All  we  lost  is  found ! 

Raise  the  grateful  voice  ! 

They’ll  come  with  victory  crown’d ! 

Victoria !  Victoria ! 

Still  let  that  cry  aloud  resound ! 

Mar.,  Bep.,  and  Gia.  {Aside.) 

Though  they  now  rejoice, 

In  our  toils  they’re  bound  ! 

Never  shall  their  voice 
Again  with  victory  sound  ! 

Victoria!  Victoria! 

Our  band  shall  all  their  hopes  confound ! 

[The  servants  of  the  Inn  come  out  with 
torches,  to  light  Lady  A.  and  Lord  A.  into 
the  Inn.  Lor.,  at  the  head  of  his  soldiers^ 
files  off  at  the  top  of  the  stage,  followed  by 
the  villagers.  Lord  A.  leads  his  Lady  into 
the  Inn,  R.  The  Mar.  graciously  salutes 
them  as  they  depart,  and  exit.  One  of  the 
servants  of  the  Inn  (Roberto)  conducts 
Bep.  and  Gia.  towards  the  barn. 


END  OF  ACT  FIRST. 


ACT  II. 


SCENE  I. — A  sleeping  chamber  in  the  Inn.  At  the  front  wings 
two  closet  glass  doors  facing  the  audience.  Near 
to  the  second  icing  a  bed  with  curtains  (very  plain), 
and  before  it  a  small  table  with  a  mirror,  a  chair 
at  the  foot  and  another  at  the  side.  At  the  second 
wing,  another  door  leading  into  the  lower  rooms. 
At  the  baefe  in  the  c .is  a  practicable  window  open- 
.  ing  on  the  country,  and  a  settee  under  it.  A  man¬ 
dolin  hangs  near  it.  The  stage  is  quite  dark  as 
the  curtain  goes  up.  Music. 

[Enter  Zerli^a  through  the  glass  door,  a 
light  in  her  hand. 

Zer.  So — my  lord’s  and  lady’s  chamber  for  the  night  is  quite 
prepared ;  and  their  supper  over,  they  may  retire  to  rest  as  soon 
as  ever  they  please ;  they’ll  find,  I  hope,  that  nothing  is  wanting 
to  their  comfort.  The  reputation  of  our  house  must  not  suffer  in 
my  father’s  absence.  (Placing  the  light  on  the  table.)  Well,  I  have 
now  a  few  moments  to  myself  for  the  first  time  the  whole  day; 
what  happiness !  Undisturbed  and  unobserved  I  may  once  more 
devote  my  thoughts  to  the  dear  absent  object  they  love  most  to 
dwell  upon. 


SONG. 

Oh,  hour  of  joy !  from  restraint  I  now  am  free ! 

One  moment’s  mine,  and  I  yield  it,  dearest,  to  thee ! 
How  much  I  love  I’ve  not  e’en  time  to  own ; — 

Lest  I  forget,  I  repeat  it  when  alone. 

Yes,  I  love  with  heart  sincere, 

And  thy  image,  Lorenzo!  so  dear, 

Is  grav’d  forever  here ! 

Oh,  hour  of  joy!  from  restraint  I  now  am  free! 

One  moment’s  mine,  and  T  viaH  it,  dearest !  to  thee. 


31 


How  impatiently  I  wait  my  father’s  return !  I  am  sure  his  heart 
will  now  yield  to  the  wishes  of  mine,  since  Lorenzo’s  fortune  is 
more  than  equal  to  Francesco’s.  Ilark !  My  lord  and  my  lady  are 
coming  to  bed — they’re  on  the  stairs.  ( Snatching  up  the  light  she 
runs  and  throws  open  the  door.)  This  way,  my  lord,  this  way,  my 
lady.  Your  chamber  is  quite  ready. 

[Tn  r  Lord  and  Lady  A.,  with  a  night  taper 
in  his  hand,  which  Zer.  takes  from  him  and 
puts  on  the  table  where  there  is  another 
t  candle,  which  she  lights. 

TRIO. 

Let  us,  I  pray, 

Good  wife,  to  rest! 

I  have  long’d  for  my  sleep  all  the  day! 

Of  all  his  comforts,  ’tis  confess’d, 

A  husband  finds  good  sleep  the  best. 

Lady  A.  {Displeased.) 

What,  my  lord,  so  soon  to  rest  ? 

Your  repose  somewhat  longer  delay ! 

The  time  was,  I  can  well  attest, 

You  were  much  less  inclined  to  rest. 

Zer.  {Aside.)  This  good  my  lord  loves  well  his  rest ! 

Lord  A.  {Aside.) 

But  one  year  in  wedlock  join’d. 

And  no  longer  to  agree  ! 

One  so  mild,  so  soft,  so  kind — 

Who  such  a  change  could  e’er  foresee  ? 

Lady  A.  {Aside.) 

But  one  year  in  "wedlock  join’d, 

And  thus  rude  he  dares  to  be, 

Once  all  fondness — now"  unkind — 

Who  such  a  change  could  e’er  foresee  ? 

Zer.  {Aside.)  But  one  year  in  wedlock  join’d, 

And  yet  thus  to  disagree ! 

When  my  fate  Hymen  shall  bind — 

With  us  the  same  it  ne’er  shall  be ! 

Lord  A.  The  hour  is  late. — New  dangers  dreading, 

We  must  depart  at  break  of  day. 

Lady  A.  No,  no,  my  lord. — Zerlina’s  wedding 
To  witness  I  intend  to  stay. 


32 


Zer.  (l.)  My  heart  with  gratitude’s  impress’d ; 

Lady  A.  ( Crosses  to  Zer.) 

My  friendship  further  still  I’ll  show ; — 

Treasure  my  words  within  your  breast, 

What  husbands  are  I’ll  let  you  know — 

My  dear,  all  husbands  you  must  know — 

Lord  A.  ( Interrupting  her.) 

Let  us,  I  pray,  good  wife,  to  rest ! 

Zer.  Aught  else  does  my  lord  now  demand  ? 

Lord  A.  No :  so  good  night,  my  pretty  maid. 

Lady  A.  You  must  wait  and  give  me  your  aid. 

Zer.  I’m  at  your  ladyship’s  command. 

[As  they  are  going  out,  Lord  A.  suddenly 
stops  and  fixes  his  looks  on  Lady  A.’s 
neck. 

Lord  A.  Eh  ?  what’s  become,  my  dear,  I  pray, 

Of  the  gold  locket  which  every  day 
I  used  to  see  hanging  at  your  side — 

By  a  black  ribbon  always  tied  ? 

Lady  A.  [Confused.) 

What,  the  picture  ? 

Lord  A.  Yes !  it  is  not  there. 

Lady  A.  ’Tis  somewhere  else. 

Lord  A.  Well,  but  where  ? 

Lady  A.  ( Crossing  r.) 

Let  us,  I  pray,  good  lord,  to  rest ! 

You’ve  longed  for  your  sleep  all  the  day. 

Of  all  his  comforts,  ’tis  confess’d, 

A  husband  finds  good  sleep  the  best. 

Lord  A.  (Aside.) 

But  one  year  in  wedlock  join’d, 

And  no  longer  ro  agree ! 

Once  so  miid,  so  soft,  so  kind, 

Who  such  a  change  could  e’er  foresee  ? 

Lady  A.  (Aside.) 

But  one  year  in  wedlock  join’d, 

And  thus  rude  he  dares  to  be ! 

Once  all  fondness,  now  unkind. 

Who  such  a  change  could  e’er  foresee  ? 


33 


Zer.  (Aside.) 

But  one  year  in  wedlock  joined, 

And  yet  thus  to  disagree ! 

When  my  fate  Hymen  shall  bind. 

With  us  the  same  it  ne’er  shall  be!. 

[At  the  end  of  the  Trio,  Zerlika  lights  Lord 
and  Lady  A.  into  their  room,  leaving  on 
the  table  her  own  night  candle,  which  gives 
a  very  faint  light.  After  a  while  the  Mar¬ 
quis  appears  at  the  door,  his  movements 
silent  anr1  cautious. 

Marquis.  All  seem  to  have  retired  for  the  night ;  and  not  a 
creature,  fortune  be  thanked,  has  seen  me  ascend  the  stairs.  So 
far  all  is  right.  As  I  understand,  my  lord’s  room  is  the  second 
chamber  on  the  first  floor  at  the  end  of  the  corridor.  This  is  cer¬ 
tainly  the  first  chamber :  but  which  is  the  second  ?  Is  it  this  ? 
(Having  advanced  l.  he  uncloses  the  glass  door  of  the  closet ,  which 
he  leaves  open.)  Ho,  as  far  as  I  can  discern,  ’tis  a  mere  lumber- 
room — (lookifig  towards  the  other  glass  door.)  Then  that  must  be 
the  corridor  leading  to  the  English  lord’s  bed-chamber.  (He  goes , 
opens  the  right  hand  door  and  looks  in.)  Yes — I’m  right.  ✓  There 
is  no  other  passage,  no  outlet  whatever;  our  prey  cannot  escape 
us.  Let  me  now  apprise  my  comrades,  whom  they  lodged  in  the 
barn.  (Opening  the  c.  ivindow.)  They  ought,  by  this  time,  to  be 
out  of  it,  yet  I  see  them  not.  The  moon  has  set,  and  the  night 
grows  darker.  (Perceiving  the  mandolin  that  hangs  near  the  win¬ 
dow ,  and  taking  it  down.)  How  for  the  signal  agreed  upon — but 
should  the  people  hear  me  ?  Well,  what  matter — I’m  not  inclined 
to  sleep,  so  I’ll  sing,  that’s  all.  We  sing  night  and  day  in  Italy. 
Besides,  my  carol  will  rouse  no  suspicions.  5Tis  the  air  warbled 
by  all  the  tender-hearted  damsels  who  wait  their  lover’s  coming ; 
so  it’s  pretty  common  all  through  the  country ! 

SEKEHADE. 

Young  Agnes,  beauteous  flower. 

Sweet  as  blooming  May, 

One  evening  from  her  tower 
Thus  poured  her  tender  lay : 

The  night  now  hath  spread  its  shade. 

And  ’twill  hide  thee  from  all  ; 

Then  haste  to  thy  faithful  maid, 


34 


Darkness  vails  bower  and  hall. 

Oh,  baste  beneath  her  tower! 

Dost  thou  not  hear  love’s  call  ? 

The  silent  hour  invites  thee, 

No  star  shed  its  ray; 

No  danger,  love,  affrights  thee. 

Wherefore  then  dost  thou  stay? 

When  sunbeams  illume  the  sky. 

Guardians  then  may  appal ; 

But  now  closed  is  every  eye, 

Let  thy  steps  gently  fall. 

The  silent  hour  invites  thee  ; 

Dost  thou  not  hear  love’s  call  ? 

[At  the  conclusion  of  the  second  verse,  Beppo 
and  Giacomo  appear  at  the  open  window. 

Bep.  Diavolo ! 

Mar.  Hush  !  Enter  without  noise. 

Gia.  ’Ifaith  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  get  out  of  that  cursed  barn 
into  wdiich  they  crammed  us.  [He  closes  fhe  window. 

Bep.  {Coming  forward  noisily.)  No,  indeed.  ( Captain  stops 
him ,  and  he  continues  more  softly.)  They  treated  us  like  valuable 
articles  as  we  are ; — they  were  afraid  we  might  be  stolen.  We  are 
exact,  though,  you  see,  Captain.  Men  of  honor  are  always 
punctual. 

Mar.  Be  silent.  My  Lord  and  his  Lady  are  but  just  gone  into 
their  room. 

Gia.  And  where  are  the  twenty  thousand  ducats’  worth  of  dia¬ 
monds  we  have  been  robbed  of? 

Bep.  And  the  bank  bills  of  which  they  cheated  us  ? 

Mar.  They  are  along  with  them.  (Giacomo  and  Beppo  half 
drawing  their  lcnives ,  are  advancing  towards  the  chamber ,  the 
Mar.  (slops  them.)  Where  go  ye? 

Gia.  To  get  back  our  property. 

Mar.  Hold  awhile  ;  they’re  not  yet  asleep.  There’s  also  one  in 
their  chamber  who  will,  however,  soon  come  out ;  the  young  girl 
there  of  the  Inn. 

Gia.  Zerlina? 

Bep.  Good ;  we’ve  a  reckoning  with  her,  too ;  forward  little 
devil!  There  are  clean  one  thousand  ducats  properly  ours,  which 
she  has  turned  away  out  of  the  lump. 

Mar.  They’ll  come  back  to  us,  fear  not.  But  it  isn’t  against  her 


35 


that  my  vengeance  burns !  ’tis  against  that  Lorenzo,  her  lover, 
who  has  deprived  ns  of  a  score  of  brave  fellows ;  and,  by  Saint 
Diavolo,  my  patron,  I  vTill  be  revenged  upon  him — or  I’m  not  an 

Italian. 

Zer.  ( Without.)  Good  night,  my  lord ;  I  will  not  forget  the 

hour. 

Mar.  Hush!  the  girl  comes.  {Showing  the  glass  door,  l.)  Into 
that  closet, — quick — behind  those  curtains. 

Bep.  {Hesitating.)  Behind  the  curtains  ? 

Mar.  Yes,  to  be  sure — till  she’s  gone. 

[Th*ey  all  three  enter  the  closet,  L.,  shutting 
the  door  after  them. 

Re-enter  Zerli^a. 

Zer.  Good  night,  my  lord ;  good  night,  my  lady ;  you  are  sure 
to  rest  well ;  the  house  is  very  quiet,  and  very  safe.  Heaven  be 
praised,  everybody  is  now  in  bed  and  asleep,  and  I  shall  not  be 
sorry  to  be  the  same.  I  am  dreadfully  tired  with  my  day’s  work ! 
I  must  make  haste  and  fall  asleep  very  fast,  for  its  very  late,  and 
I  must  be  up 'at  dawn.  {She  taJces  the  outside  day-cover  off  the 
couch.)  My  bed,  to  be  sure,  is  nothing  like  my  lord’s — far  from  it. 

[While  speaking,  she  throws  open  the  glass 
doors  of  the  closet  l.,  which  opens  out  to¬ 
wards  the  audience,  and  places  upon  a  chair 
which  is  just  at  the  entrance  inside,  the 
bed-cover  which  she  has  folded.  She  leaves 
the  closet  doors  open,  and  continuing  her 
.speech,  she  gets  up  toward  the  couch  again, 
keeping  her  back  to  the  closet.  During 
this,  the  Marquis  and  his  companions  have 
got  behind  the  loose  curtain. 

Its  neither  so  fine,  nor  so  soft; — but  no  matter,  I  rather  fancy, 
for  all  that  my  sleep  will  be  the  sweeter.  I  am  so  happy. 

.  Gia.  {Appearing  at  the  entrance  of  the  closet.)  Why,  zounds, 
this  is  her  room : 

Bep.  {Ditto.)  What  shall  we  do  ? 

.  Mar.  {Ditto.)  Wait  quietly  till  she’s  asleep. 

Bep.  Well,  then,  let  her  make  haste. 

Zer.  To-morrow  Lorenzo  will  return !  He  will  ask  me  of  my 
father,  who  certainly  can’t  refuse  him  now ;  for  he  is  rich — he’s 
worth  one  thousand  ducats !  {Drawing  the  notes  from  her  bosom.) 


36 


Here  they  are !  They  are  his — stay,  stay — they  are  ours ;  they 
belong  to  us.  Are  they  all  right  though  ?  ( Counting  them.) 

Yes;  lam  always  so  in  fear  of  any  being  missing.  Pretty  crea 
tures,  how  I  do  love  them.  ( Kissing  them.)  So  much  that  they 
shan’t  leave  me — they  shall  sleep  along  with  me,  under  my  pillow. 

[Placing  them  under  the  bolster. 

Bep.  ( From  the  closet.)  Those  rascally  notes ! 

[Marquis  claps  his  hands  on  his  mouth. 

Mar.  Will  you  hold  your  tongue  ? 

Zer.  ( Drawing  forward  the  table  with  the  mirror.)  And  as  to 
Francesco,  whom  my  father  is  to  bring  with  him  as  his  son-in- 
law,  why — I’ll  speak  to  him  frankly.  I’ll  tell  him — I  don’t  love 
him  ;  that’ll  comfort  him.  ( Brings  down  the  chair  from  the  side 
of  the  bed.)  And  to-morrow,  by  this  time,  I  shall,  perhaps,  be  the 
wife  of  Lorenzo  !  Oh ! 

[With  delight. 

Bep.  What  a  tongue ! 

Mar.  Hush! 

Zer.  Hi  s  wife  ?  Ah!  I  have  so  long — so  long  dreamt  of  it! — 
aye,  every  night  going  to  bed ;  but  now,  there’s  no  more  doubt 
about  it;  I  shall  be  married  to  him  to-morrow,  that’s  a  sure 
thing. 

CAVATINA  AND  CONCERTED  PIECE. 

[As  the  symphony  begins,  she  sits  before  the 
table  (her  back  to  the  closet),  and  takes  off 
her  ribbon  head  dress,  her  necklace,  and  her 
ear-rings;  then,  as  indicated  in  the  music, 
she  proceeds  to  take  off  at  different  periods, 
her  variegated  apron,  her  short  sleeves,  and 
her  outward  corset  of  ribbons,  remaining,  at 
last,  in  a  white  underdress. 

’Tis  to-morrow — yes,  to-morrow, 

That  makes  me  a  happy  wife! 

Thus  ending  every  sorrow, 

I  shall  now  be  blest  for  life  ! 

We  shall,  I’m  sure,  ne’er  disagree, — 

[Takes  out  her  waist  pins. 
Nor  resemble  the  great  in  our  love; 

For  dear  Lorenzo  kind  will  be. 


37 


And  jealous  he’ll  never  prove — 

Ah!  {Squeezing  her  finger.)  carefully  and  slow. 
Deuce  take  the  pin ! — 


Bep.  {Peeping  through  the  cabinet .)  How  pretty  she  looks  so  ! 


[The  Mar.  makes  a  threatening  gesture. 
Well,  I’m  not  speaking;  I  but  look! 


Mar.  {Pushing  Bep.  away ,  and  talcing  is  place.) 


Begone ! 

’Tis  my  place  here  to  see  what’s  going  on. 

[The  Mar.  is  looking  through  the  panes  R. 
Bep.  kneeling  on  his  left  knee,  and  Gia.  lean¬ 
ing  against  the  side  of  the  door  L.  Zer.  rises, 
leaving  apron  and  curricule  on  the  chair, 
which  she  puts  back  again  near  the  bed. 
Zer.  going  on  with  her  night  toilet. 

My  Lorenzo’s  heart  I  know ; 

In  his  wife  he’ll  e’er  confide ; 

Oh,  how  I  wish  the  knot  were  tied ! 

Haste,  to-morrow ;  haste,  to-morrow ! 

And  make  me  a  happy  wife ; 

Thus  ending  every  sorrow, 

Let  me  now  be*blest  for  life! 

What,  though  my  figure  all  the  grace 
Of  my  lady’s  may  not  display, 

Yet  Lorenzo,  though  such  be  the  case, 

Is  not  to  be  pitied,  I  must  say. 

[Standing  before  the  glass  in  an  attitude,  and 
surveying  herself  with  much  satisfaction. 

For  a  servant,  there’s  no  denying, 

Here’s  a  shape  that’s  not  much  amiss ! 

There’s  no  cause,  I  fancy,  for  sighing, 

When  one  boasts  such  a  figure  as  this; 

I’m  sure  there  are  some  more  amiss. 


Mar.  I  {In  the  closet ,  unable  longer  to  repress  their  laughter.) 


Bep.  v  Ha!  ha! 
Gia.  \ 


Zer.  {Alarmed  at  the  sound ,  and  listening ,  while  the  others  pre¬ 
cipitately  draw  bach  and  hide  themselves .) 

I’m  sure — a  laugh  I  heard ! 

Wasn't  from  the  chamber  of  my  Lord  ? 


38 


No;  awake  he  could  not  keep. — 

[Going  and  listening  at  the  door. 

I  hear  no  noise;  he’s  fast  asleep. 

[Resuming  her  tranquility  and  going  on  with 
her  song. 

To-morrow  ending  every  sorrow, 

Makes  me  blest  for  life ! 

But  now  I  must  to  rest. 

[She  puts  the  table  back  in  its  place. 

Mar.  ) 

Bep.  >■  Heaven  be  praised! 

Gia.  ) 

Zer.  My  nightly  prayer  be  first  address’d — 

[Kneeling  by  the  side  of  the  couch,  with  her 
hands  clasped. 

Oh !  Holy  Virgin,  whom  I  adore, 

Lorenzo’s  fate  and  mine  watch  o’er ! 

[She  rises,  and  seating  herself  on  the  side  of 
the  bed,  she  unties  the  strings  of  her  shoes. 

Good  night,  Lorenzo  dear! 

Our  bliss  now  is  near. 

Oh !  Holy  Virgin,  whom  I  adore, 

Lorenzo’s  fate  and  mine  watch  o - 

[Sleep  gradually  overcoming  her  during  her 
prayer,  her  eyes  close,  and  her  head  falls  on 
her  pillow.  After  a  pause  of  deep  silence, 
the  Mar.,  Bep.,  and  Gia.  cautiously  advance 
from  their  place  of  concealment. 

Mar.  Silence  befriending, 

Bep.  To  aid  us  conspires  ! 

Gia.  Prudence  attending, 

Vengeance  inspires! 

Gia.  (Approaching  Zer.)  She’s  asleep. — 

[He  blows  out  the  light. 

Bep.  And  now  for  my  Lord — 

Mar.  Should  he  awake  ? 

Gia.  (Drawing  his  dagger .)  To  make  him  dumb  I  undertake  ! 

(Together*) 

Prudence  attending, 

His  death  requires ! 

Silence  befriending, 

To  aid  us  conspires! 


39 


Gia.  Come  on  ! 

[As  they  are  on  the  point  of  entering  the 
chamber,  Bep.  suddenly  stops  his  com¬ 
panions,  and  points  to  Zer. 

Bep.  Hold ! — What  if  yonder  maid, 

By  the  noise  we  make,  alarmed, 

Should  raise  the  household  to  her  aid  ? 

Mar.  (Smiling.)  With  Beppo’s  prudence  I  am  charmed ! 

Gia.  How  act  then  ? 

Bep.  Let’s  begin  by  her ! 

Mar.  Hay — that  were  pity  ! 

Gia.  ( Turning  to  Mar.) 

Is’t  agreed  ? 

Bep.  Wond’rous  indeed ! 

Our  Captain,  then,  at  last  grows  tender  and  repenting. 
Mar.  I,  dog  ? — Darest  think  I  recede  ? 

[Giving  him  a  dagger. 
Here — strike,  away  all  weak  relenting ! 

(Together.) 

Prudence  attending, 

Her  death  requires ! 

Darkness  befriending, 

To  aid  us  conspires ! 

[Bep.,  going  behind  the  couch  with  his  face 
to  the  audience,  raises  the  dagger  to  stab 
Zer. 

Zer.  (In  her  sleep  repeating  her  prayer.) 

Oh  !  Holy  Virgin,  whom  I  adore, 

Lorenzo’s  fate  and  mine  watch  o’er ! 

[Bep.,  agitated  and  hesitating,  bends  down 
behind  the  couch. . 

Bep.  She  prays ! 

Gia.  Do  not  pause  ! — strike ! 

Mar.  (Turning  away  his  head.) 

Go  on — delay  no  more! 

[Bep.  raises  his  arm  again,  and  is  going  to 
strike,  when  a  violent  knocking  is  heard  at 
the  outer  door  of  the  Inn,  and  all  three 
remain  motionless  and  astounded. 


40 


They  knock  without !  ’Tis  at  the  entrance  gate ! 
Means  then  fate  our  hopes  to  blight  ? 

[The  knocking  becomes  louder. 
Zer.  ( Awaking  and  stretching  her  arms.) 

What ! — so  soon  be  waked  ? — Who’s  knocking  at  that  rate 
In  the  midst  of  the  night  ? 

[Chorus  of  Carb.  without.] 

Awake,  awake,  good  people,  pray! 

We  all  are  honest  cavaliers; 

Arise,  tor  soon  it  will  be  day — 

Eise,  and  let  in  the  Carbineers  ! — 

Bep.  Eh!  Carbineers?  [Trembling. 

Captain,  did  you  hear  ? 

Mar.  (Coolly.) 

Are  you  then  afraid  ? 

Bep.  Again,  what  brings  them  here  ? 

Lor.  ( Without.) 

Zerlina !  Zerlina ! — descend  ! 

Dost  thou  not  hear  ? — ’Tis  the  voice  of  thy  friend. 

Zer.  ( With  delight .)  ’Tis  Lorenzo ! 

[She  hastens  to  put  on  the  things  again  which 
she  had  taken  off. 

Mar.,  Bep.,  and  Gia.  (Retiring  again  toivards  the  closet ,  l.) 
Prudence  attending, 

Our  hearts  inspire! 

Darkness  befriending, 

Bids  us  now  retire ! 


Mar.  ) 
Bep.  V 
Gia.  ) 


[They  regain  their  hiding-place,  the  knocking 
is  renewed. 

Zer,  (Hastily  readjusting  her  dress.)  Do  wait  a  little,  good 
folks ! — By’r  lady,  give  yourself  a  little  patience ! — (Going  to  the 
window  and  opening  it.  Daylight  is  seen) — Is  it,  indeed,  you, 
Lorenzo  ? 

Lor.  I,  myself,  sweet. 

Zer.  You’re  very  sure  it’s  you  ? 

Lor.  ’Tis  myself  and  my  comrades,  whom  you’ve  kept  waiting  a 
whole  hour. 

Zer.  People  must  have  time  to  dress ! — when  one  is  so  suddenly 
awakened — but  here — (throwing  a  hey  from  the  window) — there’s 


41 


the  key  of  the  kitchen  for  you.  Come  in  that  way ;  the  lamp  is 
still  burning ; — and,  besides,  here’s  daylight  already.  ( She  returns 
to  the  table  to  complete  her  dress.)  Let  me  make  haste,  by  the  aid 
of  a  regiment  of  pins !  One  wouldn’t  like  to  be  caught  quite  a 
figure,  especially  by  a  party  of  smart  soldiers.  Oh  !  dreadful ! 

Carb.  ( Knocking  and  calling  without  loudly.)  Hey !  house ! 
within ! 

Zer.  Bless  me !  what  noisy  fellows ! 

Lord  A.  ( Outside.)  Don’t  he  frightened,  Lady  A. ! — I’ll  go  and 
see  what  it  is.  Keep  yourself  calm,  my  dear ! 

[Noise  again  below. 

[Enter  Lor.] 

Lor.  Zerlina ! 

Zer.  ( With  a  half  scream ,  and  enveloping  herself  in  one  of  the 
curtains .)  Ha ! — Eie,  sir ! — You  shouldn’t  bolt  into  people’s  rooms 
in  that  manner. 

Lor.  Forgive  me,  Zerlina,  and  affect  not  such  coyness.  You  are 
ever  beautiful  in  any  guise. 

[Enter  Lord  A.  from  his  room  r.  He  has  his 
coat  on,  but  no  waistcoat ;  his  shirt-collar 
is  half  open,  and  pocket  handkerchief  tied 
round  his  head. 

Lord  A.  Upon  my  life,  it’s  shocking,  positively  shocking,  to 
disturb  quiet  persons  in  this  unconscionable  manner.  I  have  paid 
for  a  nice,  comfortable  sleep,  and  this  is  fairly  robbing  one  of  one’s 
money.  [Seeing  Lor.)  Ha!  what,  it’s  you,  Mr.  Brigadier,  is  it? 
Pray,  what’s  all  this  terrible  noise  about,  and  what  brings  you  back 
at  this  untimely  hour  ? 

[Lor.  and  Lord  A.  come  forward,  leaving  Zer. 
to  her  dressing. 

Lor.  [Crossing  to  the  C.)  G-ood  news,  my  lord;  I  believe  that 
master  Diavolo  can  no  longer  escape  us. 

Zer.  and  Lord  A.  Indeed  ? 

Lor.  Our  information  was  bad,  and  we  were  pursuing  him  quite 
in  a  wrong  direction,  when  about  three  leagues  off,  we  chanced  to 
fall  in  with  an  honest  miller,  who  said  to  us,  "Signor  Cavaliers,  I 
know  where  the  bandit  now  is  whom  you  are  in  search  of.  He’s 
not  in  the  mountain.  I  am  well  acquainted  with  his  person, 
having  been  two  whole  days  his  prisoner,  and  I  saw  him  this  very 
evening  pass  in  an  open  carriage  on  the  main  road  to  Terracina.” 


42 


Zer.  Is  it  possible  ? 

Lor.  The  honest  fellow  then  offered  to  be  our  guide,  and  made 
us  retrace  our  steps.  Previously,  however,  to  our  renewing  the 
pursuit,  it  was  my  wish  to  get  the  men  a  few  hours’  rest,  for  they 
have  marched  the  whole  night,  and  are  dying  with  hunger. 

Lord  A.  Dying  with  hunger? — what  a  shocking  death! 

Zer.  Holy  Virgin! — And  yourself ? 

Lor.  Why,  I  am  somewhat  in  the  same  predicament,  too.  Briga¬ 
diers  are  not  exempt  in  those  cases. 

Zer.  But  there’s  more  than  one  inn  on  the  road,  where  you 
might  long  ago  have  found  refreshment. 

Lor.  But  there  was  only  this  one  where  I  could  have  found 
Zerlina. 

Zer.  Oh,  sir,  your  servant?  Was  that  it? 

Lor.  Just  so  ;  that  was  it  which  made  me  still  cry  out,  “Gentle¬ 
men,  forward !  March !”  Those  are  the  occasions  on  which  it’s 
delightful  to  be  a  commander. 

Zer.  Poor  fellow!  I’ll  go  and  get  you  something  to  eat  di¬ 
rectly. 

Lor.  No,  no,  begin  by  my  comrades.  They’re  not  in  love,  so 
they’re  more  in  a  hurry.  Fly,  my  own  Zerlina. 

Zer.  My  own  Zerlina,  indeed!  whatfredom!  truly  the  gentle¬ 
man  fancies  himself  my  husband  already. 

Lor.  No  to-day ;  but  to-morrow !  ( Seizing  her  in  his  arms.) 

Zer.  Have  done,  sir !  Have  done,  will  you !  1  don’t  know  what 
you  mean  by — 

Carb.  ( Without ,  ringing  and  beating  on  the  table  noisily .)  Ho! 
within  !  somebody  !  house ! 

Zer.  There,  now ;  there  are  your  comrades  growing  impatient. 
( Disengaging  herself.)  They’re  not  like  you,  they’re  better  hehaved 
Coming !  coming !  I’ll  give  them  all  there’s  in  the  house,  and 
then  I’ll  keep  the  best  I  can  get,  and  have  it  ready  for  you  in  a  few 
minutes. 

Carb.  House !  Landlord ! 

Zer.  ( Running  out.)  Hey  !  what  a  noisy  set! 

[It  is  now  full  daylight.\ 

Lord.  A.  Signor  Brigadier,  I’ve  scarcely  had  a  wink  of  sleep  the 
whole  night.  Why,  you’re  a  set  of  barbarians  in  this  shocking 
land ! 

Lor.  (Smiling.)  Our  land,  Sir  Englishman,  has  its  charms — to 


43 


us,  at  least ;  and  a  traveler,  whose  mind  is  just  and  liberal,  while 
he  prefers  his  own  soil,  will  yet  find  in  every  country  something  to 
admire  as  well  as  to  condemn;  but  those,  my  lord,  who  travel  mere¬ 
ly  to  display  their  own  importance  and  their  narrow  prejudices, 
would  do  more  wisely  to  stay  and  be  respected  at  home,  than  to 
travel  and  be  ridiculed  abroad. 

Lord  A.  For  my  part,  I  again  will  never  believe  what  travelers 
say.  I’ve  not  enjoyed  an  hour’s  comfortnor  relished  a  morsel  since 
I  crossed  the  sea.  All  that  I  have  discovered  hitherto,  is,  that 
everything  out  of  England  is  positively  shocking  ;  and  now  that  I 
am  out  of  it  myself — 

Lor.  ( Half  aside.)  You  are  shocking,  too. 

Lord  A.  Eh? 

Lor.  Only  a  passing  reflection,  my  lord. 

Lord  A.  Oh  !  ’Gad  though,  I  must  go  and  rejoin  my  lady,  who 
is  half  dead  with  alarm.  “  Calm  yourself,  my  love,”  I  said  to  her. 
Compose  your  delicate  nerves;  I’ll  go  and  see.”  ( Mimicking  a 
woman’s  voice.)  “  My  lord !  my  dear  lord !  don’t  leave  me  all 
alone!”  and  she  did  press  me  in  her  arms  so  tenderly.  I  haven’t 
felt  anything  like  it  for  a  very  long  white. 

Lor.  Ha!  ha!  ha!  You  see,  my  lord,  in  some  cases,  fear  is  of 
some  benefit.  ( He  goes  up  and  looks  out  at  the  door  to  see  if  Zer- 
lhsta  is  returning  j  then  sits  down  near  the  table.) 

Lord  A.  Fear? — Ha!  ha!  ha! — Fear  may  do  very  well  for 
women,  poor  weak-hearted  things ! — but  for  us,  Signor  Brigadier, 
for  us  who  are  men — !  (A  piece  of  furniture  falls  ivith  great 
noise  in  the  closet.)  Hey!  What’s  that  ? 

{Alarmed.) 

Mar.  {Aside  to  Bep.)  You  awkward  rascal ! 

Lord  A.  Mr.  Brigadier,  did  you  hear  that  noise  ? 

Lor.  {Coolly.)  Somebody  has  overturned  a  chair,  that’s  all. 

Lord  A.  We’re  not  by  ourselves  here. 

Lor.  It’s,  I  dare  say,  her  ladyship,  or  her  maid. 

Lord  A.  There’s  no  maid  in  my  wife’s  room ;  and  what’s  more, 
she’s  not  upon  this  side,  but  upon  that.  There’s  something  wrong. 

Lor.  {Still  quietly  seated.)  D’ye  think  so,  my  lord  ? 

Lord  A.  ( Uneasy ,  and  still  looking  towards  the  closet.)  I’m 
quite  sure  of  it. 

Bep.  {Aside.)  We’re  all  lost  to  a  certainly ! 

Mar.  Hush! 


44 


FINALE  TO  ACT  THE  SECOND. 

Lord  A.  Would  it  not  be  as  well,  Sir  Brigadier, 

If  any  one’s  in  there  to  ascertain  ? 

Lor.  {Rising.)  We  may  look — 

Lord  A.  Yes,  do  look. 

Bep.  Our  time  has  come! 

Mar.  No  fear — 

Leave  all  to  me,  while  ye  conceal’d  remain. 

[At  the  instant  that  Lor.  crosses  to  enter  the 
closet,  the  Mar.,  opening  the  door,  which 
he  immediately  shuts  again,  stands  before 
him. 

Lord  A.,  Lor.  Amazement! 

Mar.  ( With  his  finger  to  his  lips.)  Silence,  pray ! 

Lord  A.  ’Tis  the  Marquis  once  more. 

Lor.  {To  the  Mar.,  haughtily.)  We  have  met,  I  believe,  already 
once  before. 

Mar.  Last  night. 

Lor.  {Hastily  and  aloud .)  At  this  hour,  wherefore  here  ? 

Mar.  ( With  an  air  of  mystery.)  Not  so  high, 

I’ve  reason  good  to  hide  me  thus  from  ev’ry  eye. 

Lor.  What  reason  ? 

Mar.  {Pretending  embarrassment.) 

Nay — I  can’t  explain  thus  before  two  : 

Say  it  were  for  example — a  tender  rendezvous  ? 

Lord  A.  and  Lor.  Great  heaven ! 

Mar.  {Passing  between  them.) 

Well,  then,  yes — I’ll  confess  it,  entre  nous — 

But  be  discreet — It  was  a  rendezvous. 

Lor.  and  Lord.  A.  {Aside.) 

»  Horrid  doubts  thro’  me  gliding, 

My  tortured  soul  oppress ; 

Yet  my  fears  longer  hiding. 

All  emotion,  I’ll  suppress  ! 

Mar.  {Aside.)  Their  agony  deriding, 

My  joy  I  can’t  repress ! 

Both  their  hearts  now  dividing, 

Dark  fears  and  doubts  possess! 


45 


Bep.  and  Gia.  {Aside.) 

My  fears  are  fast  subsiding, 

Once  more  we  may  escape,  I  guess. 

In  liis  skill  while  confiding, 

We  are  sure  of  success! 

Lord  A.  ( Advancing  to  the  Mar.) 

At  least,  sir,  may  we  know — without  offence  or  strife, 

To  whom  you  come  here  by  night  ? 

Lor.  ( In  a  low  voice  and  with  a  threatening  air.)  Is  it  to  Zer- 
lina? 

Lord  A.  ( The  same  on  the  other  side.)  Is  it,  sir,  to  my  wife? 
Mar.  Excuse  me;  thus  to  question  you’ ve  no  right ; 

Secrets  like  these,  I  to  reveal  am  loth. 

Lor.  and  Lord.  A.  Say  to  which  of  the  two. 

Mar.  ( Laughing  lightly.) 

What  if  I  came  to  both  ? 

Lor.  and  Lord  A.  The  base  doubts  your  vile  words  would  convey, 
Shall  here  be  full  explained  without  evasion  or  delay. 
Mar.  ( Exultingly ,  aside ,  and  looking  at  them  one  after  another .) 
O’er  all  my  foes  at  last,  revenge  will  be  my  own ! 

{To  Lord  A.  In  an  under  voice ,  and  taking  him  apart.) 
As  for  you,  noble  lord!  believe  me,  silence  were  best ; 
Your  lady’s  charms,  I  own,  my  heart  has  long  confess’d ! 
And  this  endearing  pledge — by  which  her  love  is  shown — 
{drawing  the  miniature  from  his  pocket  and  exhibiting  it.) 
Lord  A.  {Furious.)  Fire  and  death! — We  shall  meet! 

Mar.  {Coolly,  in  a  low  voice.)  Whenever  you  please — so  be’t. 
{Taking  Lor.  aside  and  'pointing  to  Lord  A.) 

’Twas  my  wish  that  your  shame  to  yon  lord  should  be  un¬ 
known. — 

But  you  insist. 

Lor.  I  do. 

Mar.  {Pointing  to  the  cabinet.)  I  was  there,  and  I  came  to  Zer- 

lina. 

Lor.  {Struck  with  horror.)  Zerlina  ! 

Mar.  You  conceive,  I  suppose  ? 

Lor.  To  be  betrayed  by  her !  And  shall  I  bear  my  shame  ? 

N  o !  [ Rushing  away. 

Mar.  ( Catching  his  hand.) 

Hold!  Dare  not  to  think  you  may  her  fame  expose. 

Lor.  You  her  guilt  defend  ? 


46 


Mar.  Yes,  and  will  your  rage  oppose. 

Lor.  (Stopping  and  surveying  the  Mar.  with  restrained  fury.) 
When  the  great  dare  the  heart  of  a  soldier  to  rive, 

If  brave  they  be — 

Mar.  (In  a  low  voice.) 

Enough  !  I’m  yours  ! — Alone, — seven  the  hour, — 
Beneath  the  rocks. 

Lor.  ( The  same.)  ’Tis  well. 

Mar.  (Aside,  with  joy.)  He’ll  ne’er  return  alive ! 

Let  but  my  friends  hold  him  once  in  their  power, 

To  revenge  their  companious  their  swords  will  contrive. 

[The  Mar.  keeps  the  c.  of  the  stage,  Lor.  and 
Lord  A.  at  opposite  side.  Bep.  and  Gia. 
advancing  their  heads  from  closet  L. 

(Together.) 

Lor.  (Aside.)  Bitter  hour!  Horrid  thought! 

I  have  lost  every  joy; 

When  with  woe  life  is  fraught. 

What  remains  but  to  die  ? 

Lord  A.  (Aside.)  Bitter  hour !  Horrid  thought ! 

I  have  lost  every  joy  ; 

Thus  to  shame  by  her  brought ! 

From  my  rage  let  her  fly ! 

Mar.  (Aside.)  Happy  hour!  Pleasing  thought ! 

I  each  fear  may  defy ! 

In  my  toils  he  is  caught ! 

My  revenge  now  is  nigh  ! 

Bep.  and  Gia.  (Aside.) 

Happy  hour !  Pleasing  thought ! 

We  each  fear  may  defy  ! 

In  the  toils  they  are  caught ! 

Our  revenge  now  is  nigh. 

[Enter  Lady  A.  from  her  chamber. 
Lady  A.  What  dreadful  noise  pervades  the  place! 

(To  Lord  A.) 

To  sooth  my  fears  you’ve  little  cared. 

[Enter  Zer. 


47 


Zee.  ( Running  to  Lon.) 

My  dear  Lorenzo — all’s  prepared. 

Why  what  means  that  lowering  brow ! 

Lor.  and  Lord  A.  (Aside.)  Base  deceiver ! 

Lady  A.  (Tenderly  to  Lord  A.)  Dear  lord,  I  pray — 

Lord  A.  (  Violently.)  Touch  me  not.  We  must  part  before  an' 
other  day. 

Lady  A.  (  With  astonishment.)  Part,  my  lord ! 

Lord  A.  Pm  resolved. 

Zer.  to  Lor.  (On  the  other  side ,  anxiously.) 

Dear  Lorenzo  !  oh,  say — 

Lor.  (Coldly,  and  without  looking  at  her.) 

Away,  deceiver,  away ! 

Zer.  and  Lady  A.  (Aside.) 

What  mystery  is  this  !  What  fears  my  heart  o’ercome ! 

Lor.  to  Zer.  (Aside.) 

Your  falsehood  to  conceal,  I  consent  to  be  dumb. 

Zer.  Can  it  be  ? 

Lor.  But  begone ! 

Zer.  Dear  Lorenzo! 

Lor.  No  more. 

Zer.  Hear  me  yet ! 

Lor.  ’Tis  in  vain !  All  your  vows  I  restore. 

(Apart  to  Mar  ) 

At  seven — beneath  the  rocks — 

Mar.  Be  sure  I  will  not  fail ! 

Zer.  (Much  agitated,  aside.) 

My  fears  prevail ! 

Lord  A.  ( To  his  wife.) 

Tears  won’t  avail ! 

Lady  A.  (Aside.) 

Anger  and  grief  my  heart  assail ! 

[Together.] 

Zer.  and  Lor. 

Bitter  hour !  Horrid  thought ! 

I  have  lost  every  joy! 

Since  with  woe  life  is  fraught. 

What  remains  but  to  die ! 


48 


Lord  A.  (Aside.) 

Bitter  hour !  Horrid  thought ! 

I  haye  lost  every  joy! 

Thus  to  shame  by  her  brought ! 
From  my  rage  let  her  fly ! 

Lady  A.  (Aside.) 

Bitter  hour !  Horrid  thought ! 

I  have  lost  every  joy ! 

Who  all  this  can  have  wrought  ! 
From  my  rage  let  him  fly  ! 


Mar.,  Bep.,  and  Gia.  (Aside.) 

Happy  hour  !  Pleasing  thought ! 

j-  each  fear  may  defy ! 

In  our  toils  they  are  caught; 

Our  |  revenge  now  is  nigh  ! 


[Lord  A.  moves  to  regain  his  chamber,  his 
wife  hangs  upon  him,  and  prevents  him. 
Lor.,  rushing  towards  the  door,  is  held 
back  by  Zer.,  who  implores  him  still  to 
hear  her.  Bep.  and  Gia.  half  open  the 
closet  door  to  come  out ;  the  Mar.,  stretch¬ 
ing  out  his  hand  towards  them,  commands 
them  by  signs  to  keep  hack  and  wait  yet 
longer.  The  curtain  falls  upon  the  picture, 
and  ends  the  second  act. 


END  OF  ACT  SECOND. 


ACT  III. 


SCENE  I. — An  extensive  and  romantic  landscape.  On  the  R.  an 
outward  door  appertaining  to  the  Inn,  and  stairs 
ascending  to  a  surrounding  gallery.  Before  it , 
a  tuft  of  trees.  On  the  l.  a  leafy  arbor  contain¬ 
ing  a  small  table  with  garden  seats.  Towards 
the  horizon ,  a  large  mountain  with  various  paths 
conducting  to  it.  On  its  summit  rises  con¬ 
spicuously  a  small  hermitage-chapel  with  a  belfry. 
A  little  behind  the  table  in  the  arbor,  the  decayed 
trunk  of  a  tree ;  and  bdoiv  the  arbor  and  the 
mountain,  a  patch  of  arbute  trees.  Wood  wings. 

[During  the  symphony  of  the  following  air, 
the  Mar*,  in  his  Era  Diavolo  costume,  en¬ 
veloped  in  his  dark  velvet  cloak,  and  his 
carbine  on  his  shoulder,  descends  the  moun¬ 
tain  path  from  L.  to  R.,  and  comes  down 
the  c. 

KECITATIVE. 

Era  Diavolo. 

My  companions  are  warn’d  and  our  plans  fitly  laid 
My  just  revenge  full  soon  to  aid ! 

Each  wish’d  for  joy  thus  to  share, 

What  station  with  mine  can  compare  ? 

MARTIAL  AIR. 

Proudly  and  wide  my  standard  flies 
O’er  daring  hearts, — a  noble  band ! 

All  own  my  sway ;  whilst  for  supplies, 

Each  traveler’s  wealth  I  freely  command  ; 

My  will  is  law  which  none  gainsay, 

Whate’er  I  may  obtain  ; 

49 


50 


In  silent  awe,  they  must  obey ; 

O’er  all,  a  king  I  reign ! 

Proudly  and  wide  my  standard  flies 
O’er  daring  hearts, — a  noble  band ! 

All  own  my  sway ;  whilst  for  supplies, 

Each  traveler’s  wealth  I  freely  command! 

Now  a  banker  I  stop.  “  Your  gold !  your  gold !  your  gold !’ 
And  now  a  lord  is  brought !  “  Your  gold !  your  gold 

your  gold !” 

A  lawyer  now  is  caught.  Let  justice  be  done — 

Restore  your  plunder — even  three-fold ! 

Now  a  pilgrim  before  me’s  led! 

“  I  have  no  gold!  I  have  no  bread!” 

Here  are  both  for  you,  friend, 

Peace  your  footsteps  attend  ! 

Then  a  poor  simple  maid  appears ; 

See  how  she’s  shaking  with  her  fears  ! 

“  Oh,  dear,  have  mercy !  your  pity  pray  show — 

Oh!  oh!  oh!  oh! 

Here’s  all  I  have ;  spare  my  life — let  me  go — 

Oh  !  oh  !  oh !  oh  ! 

Mercy,  Mr.  Robber — be  mild — 

I’m  alas !  but  a  poor  young  child !” 

CAVATINA. 

We  never  aught  demand  from  the  fair — 

All  due  regard  to  them  we  show ; 

Tho’  we  gratefully  accept  whate’er 
Their  tender  hearts  deign  to  bestow. 

Ah !  what  delights  around  on  every  hand 
Who  leads  a  life  like  to  the  bold  brigand  ? 

,  Yet — yet — swift  runs  of  time  the  sand! 

RONDEAU. 

Then  since  life  glides  so  fast  away, 

Let’s  enjoy  it  while  we  may ; 

For  fate,  so  kind  to-day, 

Perhaps  to-morrow  may  betray ! 

As  new  dangers  our  steps  surround. 

Every  moment  may  be  nur  last ; 

Then  with  new  pleasures  crown’d, 


51 


Be  ev’ry  moment  gaily  past. 

Oh  !  what  joys  divine, 

Does  the  brigand’s  station  combine ! 

Still  gay  and  at  ease, 

Just  like  a  king,  I  do  as  I  please ; 

I  plunder,  rob,  take  people’s  lives, 

Bear  off  both  husbands  and  their  wives  ; 

And  oft  their  hearts  to  beat  I’ve  made  ! 

The  last  with  love,  the  first  with  dread  ! 

One  trembing  bows,  with  hat  in  hand, 

The  other  smiles  and  says — dear  sweet  brigand ! 

Then  since  life  glides  so  fast  away, 

Let’s  enjoy  it  while  yet  we  may ; 

Bor  fate  so  kind  to-day, 

Perhaps  to-morrow  may  betray ! 

As  new  dangers  our  steps  surround, 

Ev’ry  moment  may  be  our  last, 

Then  with  new  pleasures  crown’d, 

Be  ev’ry  moment  gaily  past ! 

Well  (rubbing  his  hands),  my  plans  are  fixed,  and  I  think 
that,  this  time,  Signor  Lorenzo  will  find  it  somewhat  hard  to  foil 
them.  Six  has  just  struck  by  the  Inn  clock.  In  an  hour  more — 
I  shall  be  rid  of  them.  He  is  jealous,  he  is  brave:  he  will  be 
punctual  to  his  appointment.  (Smiling.)  Now  for  my  other 
measures.  Let  me  see.  If  I  remember  right,  Zerlina’s  father,  old 
Matteo,  returns  home  this  morning  with  the  new  bridegroom  to 
conclude  the  wedding.  Now  let  me  see.  First,  I’ll  possess  myself 
of  my  lord’s  bank-notes,  his  diamonds— him! — perhaps  even  I’ll 
take  his  wife — I  think  I  owe  her  that  much  attention.  ( Talcing 
out  his  tablets.)  As  I  see  nothing  of  my  spies,  I’ll  make  use  of 
the  means  of  communication  agreed  on — the  hollow  of  the  tree. 
( Pointing  to  the  decayed  tree.)  A  word  or  two  will  suffice  for  their 
instruction.  ( The  music  of  the  following  piece  begins.)  Hark! 
some  one  approaches!  I  must  escape  unoDserved!  There  !  (After 
having  written,  he  tears  out  the  leaf,  folds  it,  throws  it  into  the 
hollow  of  the  tree ,  and  exits  behind  the  arbor.) 

[At  the  same  time,  a  number  of  villagers, 
male  and  female,  enter  from  divers  sides, 
E.  and  l.,  wearing  green  branches  on  their 
heads,  and  some  bearing  in  their  hands  a 


52 


knotted  stick  ornamented  with  garlands 
and  ribbons.  The  Carbineers  (without  caps 
or  arms)  and  the  people  of  the  Inn  come 
to  join  them.  Soon  after,  a  group  of 
peasants,  dancing,  and  bearing  flowers, 
descend  the  mountain,  announcing  to  those 
below  the  approach  of  the  bridegroom. 

CHORUS. AND  CONCERTED  PIECE. 

Villagers,  Peasants,  &c. 

Hail !  blessed  morning, 

Nature  adorning ! 

’Tis  Easter  day, 

Let’s  sing  and  play ! 

This  joyful  day, 

Be  grateful  'and  gay ! 

[Enter  Gia.,  followed  by  Bep.,  from  the  Inn.] 

Gia.  Loiterer,  come  ! — always  the  last ! 

Bep.  ( Stretching  his  arms.)  Good  Mend,  our  haste  abating. 

Let’s  take  an  hour’s  more  sleep ! 

Gia.  What  if  the  Captain’s  waiting  ? 

What  will  he  say  ? 

[Stopping  by  the  arbor. 

Why — here?s  all  the  village,  I  declare ! 

Bep.  To  be  sure ;  ’tis  Easter-day ;  yet  for  all  that  see  there — 

[Pointing  to  Gia.’s  head. 

Not  e’en  a  single  branch  upon  your  head  you  wear. 

Do  you  want,  man,  to  bring  us  ill  luck  ? 

Gia.  The  saints  forfend ! 

Bep.  ( Plucking  a  branch  and  putting  it  in  his  hat.) 

Pious  Giacomo’s  holy  zeal  is  well  known  to  transcend ! 

[A  fresh  party  of  peasants  descend  the  moun¬ 
tain,  preceding  Matteo,  who  comes  in  wdth 
Fran,  and  a  few  followers.  Another  party 
carrying  garlands  on  long  poles,  the  flowers 
attached  to  each  other,  come  slowly  down  the 
mountain,  and  forms  itself  into  a  line  fill¬ 
ing  up  the  path.  Mat.  and  Fran,  who,  as 
bridegroom  has  the  marriage  boquet  at  his 


53 


side,  advance  to  the  front,  welcomed  by  the 
different  parties  on  the  stage,  whose  greet¬ 
ings  they  cordially  return. 

CHORUS. 

Hail  the  blessed  morning, 

Nature  adorning ! 

’Tis  Easter-day ! 

Let’s  sing  and  play  ! 

Let  youth  and  maiden, 

Of  sin  unladen. 

Now  decked  be  seen 
With  boughs  of  green. 

This  joyful  day, 

Be  grateful  and  gay  ! 

Mat.  ( Taking  Eran.’s  hand .) 

My  son,  the  heavens  smile  as  tho’  your  happiness  be¬ 
friending  ; 

But  e’er  you  kneel  to  love,  e’en  here  now  lowly  bend¬ 
ing, 

Let  us  incline 
At  our  Lady’s  shrine, 

In  humble  praise  our  grateful  voices  blending  ! 

[Some  of  the  female  peasants  go  up  among 
the  garland-bearers  on  the  ascent,  where 
they  kneel  during  the  prayer — others  lower 
down.  All  kneel. 

GENERAL  CHORUS. 

Oh,  Holy  Virgin  !  bright  and  fair ! 

Thy  sainted  favor  ever  show ! 

Oh !  make  us  worthy  of  thy  care, 

And  on  our  hearts  thy  grace  bestow ! 

Mat.  May  thy  goodness,  more  and  more, 

Bless  my  child  each  coming  day ! 

Chorus  of  Youths.  Give  us  wealth,  we  implore  ? 

Chorus  of  Maidehs.  Give  us  husbands  we  pray  ? 

[Together.] 

Oh,  Holy  Virgin  !  bright  and  fair, 

Thy  sainted  favor  ever  show  ! 

Oh,  make  us  worthy  of  thy  care, 

And  on  our  hearts  thy  grace  bestow! 


54 


[The  prayer  over,  all  rise,  and  Mat.  showing 
them  the  door  of  the  Inn,  by  signs,  invites 
the  wedding  train  to  enter.  They  go  in 
singing  their  chorus. 

Gia.  They’re  gone  (looking  by  the  different  paths.)  Do  you  see 
the  Captain  ? 

Bep.  (Sitting  down  on  the  seat  near  the  decayed  tree.)  No;  I 
suppose  he’s  gone. 

Gia.  Well,  and  what  are  you  doing  there  ? 

Bep.  What  am  I  doing  ?  Why,  I  am  doing, — nothing.  It  is  a 
delightful  employment  this  sunny  weather. 

Gia.  In  case  the  Captain  should  not  rejoin  us,  he  said  we 
should  find  his  instruction  in  the  hollow  of  the  rotten  tree  near 
the  arbor. 

Bep.  (Turning  round  and  putting  his  hand  into  the  tree.) 
This  is  it.  Here’s  something ;  a  paper — and  in  his  handwriting. 

Gia.  Read. 

Bep.  Read  yourself. 

Gia.  (Taking  the  paper  and  reading ,  after  looking  if  they  are 
unobserved .)  “  As  soon  as  the  girl’s  lover  shall  have  set  off  for  the 

place  of  meeting  where  our  comrades  await  him, — the  carbineers  on 
their  wild  goose  chase,  and  the  people  of  the  inn  to  the  wedding,  be 
sure  to  give  me  notice  by  ringing  the  bell  of  the  hermitage.  I  will 
then  hasten  with  some  of  my  brave  fellows  and  take  possession  of 
my  lord  and  his  lady.  Wait  for  me.” 

Bep.  All  clear  enough. 

Gia.  "Clear  or  not ;  once  he  says  it,  it  must  be  done.  Let  us 
watch,  above  all,  the  departure  of  the  carbineers. 

Bep.  Oh,  they’ll  soon  be  off.  We’ve  just  seen  them  o’foot,  and 
ready  to  take  the  road. 

Gia.  So  much  the  better. 

Bep.  There’s  one  thing,  though,  friend  Giacomo,  that  goes 
against  me,  and  that  is  killing,  this,  my  lord,  on  Sunday,  and  such 
a  holiday  too. 

Gia.  Pshaw !  that  might  be  a  fair  scruple  of  conscience  enough 
if  the  man  were  a  Christian  j  but  he’s  an  Englishman.  It’s 
enough  to  bring  us  good  luck  for  the  rest  of  the  year. 

Bep.  You  are  right.  May,  then,  the  grace  of  heaven  assist  us. 

Gia.  Look !  look ! — here  comes  the  poor  swain,  the,  Brigadier 
Lorenzo ;  he’s  melancholy ;  how  he  sighs  I 


55 


Bep.  Ha !  ha !  ha !  poor  amorous  fool !  He  does  well  to  indulge 
himself  while  he  can !  for,  once  he  gets  to  the  place  of  meeting  pre¬ 
pared  for  him  by  our  Captain,  he  won’t  have  much  time  to  sigh. 

Gia.  Come  this  way,  and  let  us  leave  him  to  himself.  Mind, 
though,  he  doesn’t  get  out  of  our  sight. 

[Exeunt  behind  the  arbor. 

LEnter  Lorenzo,  from  the  Inn.] 

SONG. 

“  I’m  thine  !  I’m  thine !”  she  oft  would  say, 

“  For  ever  thine ! — 

Other’s  love  may  fade  away, 

But  never  mine  !” 

Yet  she  now  leaves  my  heart  to  grieve, 

And  break  with  woe! 

I  scarce  her  falsehood  can  believe, 

I  love  her  so ! 

But,  love !  farewell, — I’ll  now  for  e’er 
The  false  one  fly ; 

Her  image  from  my  heart  I’ll  tear, 

Then  silent  die ! 

I’ll  no  longer  her  falsehood  regret ; 

Yet  where’er  I  go, 

I  fear  I  never  can  forget ; 

— I  loved  her  so ! 

— Yes,  I  have  been  able  to  restrain  myself ;  I  have  had  the  courage 
to  spare  her — while  it  is  in  my  power,  before  her  father,  before 
them  all,  to  tax  them  with  her  guilt,  to  proclaim  her  crime  aloud 

and, - What  have  I  said  ?  Dishonor  her  whom  I  have  so  loved ! 

Destroy  her  for  ever !  No !  let  her  marry, — let  her  be  happy  if  she 
can ;  she  shall  hear  from  my  lips  neither  complaint  nor  reproach. 
The  hour  of  my  appointment  is  near ;  I  will  go — I  will  meet  death 
for  her ;  it  shall  be  my  only  revenge. 

[Enter  Matteo,  Zerlina,  and  two  servants  from  the  Inn,  r.] 

Mat.  Come,  lads,  put  a  table  out  here ;  bring  the  wine.  The 
wedding  party  and  the  Carbineers  won’t  be  sorry  to  quaff  a  cup  or 
so  before  we  go.  Your  soldiers  are  ever  a  thirsty  race.  (Matteo 
keeps  continually  going  backwards  and  forwards.  Zerlina  dur¬ 
ing  the  above ,  has  approached  Lorenzo,  who  is  l.)  ^ 


56 


Zer.  (Timidly.)  Lorenzo,  I  have  been  seeking  you.  My  father 
is  returned. 

Lor.  ’Tis  well. 

Zer.  Francisco  is  with  him.  , 

Lor.  ( With  emotion.)  Francisco  ! 

Zer.  He  has  presented  him  to  me  as  my  husband.  All  is  pre¬ 
pared  for  our  instant  marriage.  (After  a  pattse.)  In  an  hour’s 
time  I  am  going  to  be  another’s,  if  you  do  not  speak — if  you  do 
not  explain  your  strange  conduct. 

Lor.  Remember  your  conduct,  and  leave  me. 

Zer.  Lorenzo,  I  cannot  bear  this ;  be  generous;  do  not  oppress 
me  so  cruelly.  If  your  love  has  changed,  if  you  hate  me,  tell  me 
so.  Oh  !  I  beseech  you  once  more,  ere  too  late — 

Mat.  (At  the  table.)  What  are  you  doing  there,  Zerlina,  instead 
of  coming  to  help  me  ? 

Zer.  ( Going  to  him ,  looking  at  Lorenzo  all  the  time.)  Here  I 
am,  father. 

Lor.  (Aside.)  What  deceit!  What  hypocrisy! 

Mat.  ( Calling.)  Roberto !  more  glasses ! 

[Re-enter  Bep.  and  Gia.,  l.] 

Bep.  (Sitting  at  the  table  in  the  arbor ,  Gia.  l.  corner .)  From 
this  place  we  can  watch  them  all  nicely. 

Zer.  ( Who  has  again  approached  Lor.)  Lorenzo,  tell  me  the 
truth  !  Why  is  it  you  treat  me  thus !  What  have  I  done  ?  What 
have  you  to  reproach  me  with  ? 

Bep.  and  Gia.  (Striking  the  table  and  calling  loudly .)  What,  ho ! 
some  wine ! 

Mat.  Why,  girl !  how  now  ?  Don’t  you  hear  ? 

Zer.  (With  impatience.)  Coming!  I  shall  go  distracted.  (The 
bugle  begins  to  sound.)  Roberto ! 

CONCERTED  FINALE. 

[Zer.  makes  a  sign  to  Rob.,  who  carries  a  flask 
of  wine  to  the  table,  where  sit  Bep.  and  Gia. 
She  tries  still  to  speak  with  Lor.,  when  at 
that  moment  the  Carbineers  march  in 
from  the  Inn,  R.  Zer.  gains  the  comer  R. 

Chorus  of  Carbineers. 

Come,  Captain,  let’s  no  longer  stay, — 

The  hour  is  come,  we  must  be  gone. 


57 


Our  duty  calls  us  hence  away  ; 

To  gain  fresh  laurels,  let  us  on  ! 

Mat.  What!  so  soon  to  duty  again  ? 

Garb.  Long  the  sun  has  lit  up  the  sky, 

Seven  o’clock  will  shortly  strike. 

Lor.  {Starting.) 

Seven  !  the  hour  so  high ! 

Let’s  away. 

[To  a  subaltern  whom  he  brings  forward. 
Observe.  When  yonder  rocks  we  gain, 

Half  an  hour  my  coming  wait ; 

If  to  return  ’tis  not  my  fate, 

In  my  place  then  command ;  guide  the  men  to  their 
prey. 

Mat.  Alone  !  among  the  rocks  ! 

Lor.  Honor’s  call  I  obey. 

Bep.  ( Aside  to  Gia.) 

It  is  to  death  he  hastens  on. 

Gia.  He  goes  at  last,  and  goes  alone. 

Zer.  ( Looking  at  Lor.) 

Shall  I  then  let  him  thus  begone?  No.  No. 

[She  is  advancing  towards  Lor.  from  the  R.  c. 
when  Fran.  and  the  wedding  train,  vil¬ 
lagers,  peasants,  &c.,  with  boquets  and 
crowns  of  flowers,  enter  from  the  Inn.  r. 
and  intercept  her. 

[Together.] 

Chorus  of  Villagees. 

’Tis  Hymen  calls  ;  no  longer  stay ; 

The  hour  is  come  we  must  he  gone. 

While  pipe  and  tabor  gaily  play, 

To  mirth  and  pleasure  let  us  on  ! 

Chorus  of  Carbineers. 

Come,  Captain !  let’s  no  longer  stay ; 

The  hour  is  come,  we  must  be  gone. 

Our  duty  calls  us  hence  away ; 

To  gain  fresh  laurels,  let  us  on ! 


58 


Mat.  ( Joining  the  hands  o/Fran.  and  Zer.) 

My  children,  be  ye  blest,  thus  linked  in  virtuous 
chains. 

{To  Fran.) 

Within  this  hour  her  vows  thou  wilt  receive. 

{Aside.) 

All  then,  alas  !  is  lost ;  no  hope  remains  ! 

[Seeing  Lor.  about  to  depart,  she  flies  toward  him. 
Oh,  Lorenzo !  My  tortured  heart  relieve ! 

What  have  I  done  ? 

( With  intense  passion.) 

Deceiver ! 

Explain ! 

False  betrayer ! 

Remember  him  I  saw  concealed  with  guilty  care 
Last  night  within  your  room. 

[Abruptly  leaving  her,  he  goes  to  his  soldiers, 
whom  he  draws  up  in  marching  order. 

( Wildly.) 

What  words  are  these  ? 

With  surprise  and  with  horror  my  heart  seems  to 
freeze. 

{Drinking  at  the  table.) 

Will  they  go  ? 

( The  same.) 

Shortly  now. 

What  hellish  plot  is  this  ? 

{Knocking  at  the  table  and  calling.) 

What,  ho  !  More  wine ! 

[Turning  round  to  Zer.,  who  is  left  alone  in 
the  centre  of  the  stage,  and  whom  he  points 
out  to  his  companion. 

I  say,  see  there !  ’Tis  that  same  pretty  she, 

Whom  so  long  at  her  toilet  last  night  we  chanced  to  see. 

Gia.  {Laughing.) 

And  who  with  herself  so  pleased  seemed  to  be. 

You  remember  yet? 

Bep.  {Laughing.) 

Yes ;  and  shall  ne’er  forget. 

[Imitating  Zer/s  posture  before  the  glass,  and 
repeating  her  words. 


Zer. 

Lor. 

Zer. 

Lor. 

Zer. 

Bep. 

Gia. 

Zer. 

Bep. 


59 


“  For  a  servant  there’s  no  denying, 

Here’s  a  shape  not  much  amiss!”  [Laughing. 

Gia.  ( Mimicking  her  also.) 

“  There’s  no  cause,  I  fancy,  for  sighing, 

When  one  boast  such  a  figure  as  this !” 

[Together.] 

“  I  am  sure  there  are  some  more  amiss !” 

Ha!  ha!  ha! 

[They  resume  their  seats  laughing. 

Zer.  ( Struck  with  extreme  astonishment,  and  see/cing  to  recall 
her  ideas.)  Those  words  !  What  said  they  ?  What  horrible  plot  is 
this  ? 

[Enter  Lord  A.  and  Lady  A. 

[Together.] 

Chorus  of  Villagers. 

Come,  Hymen  calls,  no  longer  stay ; 

The  hour  is  come,  we  must  be  gone ; 

While  pipe  and  tabor  gaily  play, 

To  mirth  and  pleasure  let  us  on. 

Chorus  of  Carbineers. 

Come,  Captain,  let’s  no  longer  stay, 

The  hour  is  come,  we  must  be  gone; 

Our  duty  calls  us  hence  away ; 

To  gain  fresh  laurels,  let  us  on. 

[Lor.  makes  the  soldiers  file  off  before  him 
two  by  two  and  they  begin  to  ascend  the 
center  path  leading  up  to  the  mountain. 
Mat.  at  the  same  time  comes  to  Zer.,  and, 
taking  her  hand,  shows  her  the  wedding 
party,  preparing  to  depart.  At  this  instant, 
Zer.  seer  Lor.  on  the  point  of  disappearing, 
when,  with  a  cry  of  anguish,  she  rushes  to 
the  top  of  the  stage. 

Zer.  In  mercy  stop  !  One  moment  stay ! 

Hear  me !  oh,  hear ! 


60 


All.  ( Surprised  at  her  emotion.) 

"What  would  she  say  ? 

[With  looks  of  astonishment,  they  all  gather 
round  her ;  the  Carbineers  return  on  their 
steps,  and  Lor.  hastily  descends  to  her  side. 
The  music  ceases. 

Zer.  ( Seizing  Lor.’s  hand,  fixing  her  looks  on  him  steadfastly, 
and  speaking  with  much  emotion .)  I  know  not.  I  am  ignorant  who 
has  created  the  vile  suspicions  that  assail  me,  and  I  seek  in  vain  to 
discover  the  dark  mystery ;  but  this  I  know,  that  last  night  I  was 
alone  in  my  chamber.  (  With  emphasis,  and  looking  at  Lor.)  Yes, 
alone  !  I  thought  of  persons  dear — most  dear  to  me ;  and  I  re¬ 
member  well  to  have  spoken  aloud  words  which  I  deemed  no 
human  ear  could  have  heard  ;  yet  those  words — those  very  words? 
breathed  only  to  heaven  in  pure  and  guileless  innocence,  have  this 
very  instant  been  repeated  close  to  me. 

Lor.  By  whom  ? 

Zer.  ( Suddenly  pointing  to  Bep.  and  Gia.)  Those  two  men, 
whom  I  know  nothing  of;  they  must  consequently  have  been  near 
me — last  night — in  my  chamber — without  my  knowledge. 

Lor.  Ha !  Seize  them ! 

FINALE. — Continued. 

All.  Surprise, 

Lor.  Seize  them  both  without  more  delay. 

andAVi™EESS.  }The  Captain’s  orders  we’ll  obey, 

Yes,  seize  them  both  without  delay. 

[Mat.  seizes  Gia.,  while  the  soldiers  seize 
Bep. 

Lor.  Should  these  bandits  be,  whose  pursuit  brought  us  here  ! 

[Making  the  guide  come  forward. 

Say,  you  who  know  their  chief,  and  have  sworn  our  guide 
to  be  — 

Behold  these  men,  and  speak,  devoid  of  fear, — 

Is  he  one  of  these  ? 

Guide.  ( After  considering  them  for  some  time.)  No. 

Giacomo  |  ^side.)  Again  we  may  breathe  free. 

Lor.  Their  looks  suspicious  still  appear. 


\ 


61 


Mat.  ( Going  to  Lor.,  with  the  arms  and  paper  seized  on  Gia. 
These  weapons  see, 

And  this  paper  also,  of  some  ill-plot  the  key. 

[Music  commences  again. 

Lor.  {Hastily  snatching  the  paper.)  Let’s  read  :  “  As  soon  as 

the  Carbineers  and  the  wedding  train  shall  have  departed,  be  sure 
to  give  me  notice  by  ringing  the  bell  of  the  hermitage.  I  will  then 
hasten  with  some  of  my  brave  fellows,  and  take  charge  of  my  lord 
and  my  lady.” 

Lord  A.  ( StrucTc  with  terror.)  Eh  ?  Shocking ! 

FIN  ALE. — Coktiiojed. 

Lord  A.  Can  it  be  ? 

Lady  A.  {Trembling) 

Is  it  a  plot  against  us  two  ?  [To  Lor. 

What’s  the  meaning  of  this  ? 

Lor.  We  shall  find  out. 

[Calling  to  him  two  of  the  Carbineers, 
Lord  A.  I  tremble  {to  Lady  A.)  for  you. 

Lady  A.  For  yourself. 

Lord  A.  For  you  and  me. 

Let  then  love — 

Lady  A.  Or  else  fear  our  peacemaker  be. 

[They  take  each  other’s  hands  in  full  recon¬ 
ciliation. 

Lor.  {To  one  of  the  Carbineers ,  whom  he  has  given  instructions.) 
Quick,  my  commands  obey ;  as  I  have  said,  place  them  all. 

[The  Carbineer  returns  to  his  comrades,  to 
whom  he  imparts  his  Captains  orders. 

You  {to  the  other  Carbineer ,  showing  him  Gia.)  to  the 
hermitage  ascend  with  him  :  if  he  rebel — 

Beneath  your  sword  that  instant  let  him  fall. 

[To  the  wedding  train  and  Villagers. 
For  you,  my  friends,  now  hide  ye  well 
Behind  those  trees,  until  your  prey  shall  come. 

[Placing  Bep.  in  the  centre  of  the  stage. 
And  you,  take  your  station  there — there ! 

And  if  to  play  us  false,  by  word,  or  sign  you  dare— 

[Striking  his  carbine,  and  pointing  to  the 
bushes — 

Remember  that  I’m  at  hand.  You  conceive  ? 


62 


Bep,  ( Trembling.')  But  too  well. 

Lor.  Be  dumb ! 

[The  spldier  that  has  charge  of  Gia.  has  con¬ 
ducted  him  to  the  hermitage,  which  is  at 
the  top  of  the  mountain,  facing  the  au¬ 
dience.  The  soldier  keeps  inside  the  chapel, 
and  only  Gia.’s  arms  are  seen,  as  he  begins 
tolling  the  bell.  Fran,  and  some  of  the 
villagers  conceal  themselves  in  the  arbor,  L., 
Lord  and  Lady  A.,  Zer.  and  Lor.,  take 
their  stations  behind  the  tuft  of  trees,  close 
to  the  door  of  the  Inn,  r.  Bep.  remains 
alone  in  the  centre  of  the  stage. 

CHORUS. 

Bless’d  Powers,  that  still  the  good  protect, 

Oh,  grant  us  now  your  aid  ! 

Zer.  Hoes  some  one  come ! 

Lor.  No,  not  as  yet. 

Bep.  {Aside.)  May  he  shun  the  snare  for  him  laid. 

CHORUS. 

Bless’d  Powers,  that  still  the  good  protect, 

Oh,  grant  us  now  your  aid! 

Mat.  {Looking  out  near  the  centre  path  of  the  mountain .) 

Some  one’s  now  upon  the  hill. 

Lor.  All  keep  back  and  be  still. 

[The  carbineers  disappear  instantly,  both  on 
the  R.  and  L.,  Mat.  joins  Zer.  ;  the  stage  is 
leit  clear,  and  Fra  Diav.  appears  on  the 
summit  of  the  mountain  toward  the  L.  He 
stops,  looks  around,  and  perceives  no  one  " 
but  Gia.  tolling  the  hermitage  bell,  and 
Bep.  down  in  the  front. 

Fra  Diav.  {Calling.)  Beppo. 

Lor.  {Behind  the  trees ,  presenting  his  carline  at  Bep.) 

Dare  not  to  stir ! 

Fra  Diav.  Is  there  a  free  access  ? 

And  in  safety  may  I  advance? 

Lor.  {Still  aiming  his  carbine  at  Bep.)  Answer  yes? 


63 


Bep.  ( Trembling  violently,  but  without  looking.)  Yes. 

Lor.  Louder  still. 

Bep.  ( Turning  his  head  toward  the  mountain,  l.) 

Yes — yes — all  is  right. 

[Fra  Diav.,  making  a  signal  to  three  of  his 
companions,  begins  to  descend  the  mountain 
with  confidence. 

Pleasure  invites  to  fresh  delight, 

And  fortune  my  steps  will  gaily  speed ! 

Bep.  ( Muttering  to  himself.) 

Pretty  fortune,  indeed! 

Guide.  {By  the  side  of  Lor.  suddenly.) 

5Tis  Diavolo ! 

Can  it  be ! 

My  oath  Pll  take. 

[Lord  A.  seeing  Fra  Diav.  as  he  approaches, 
and  with  an  exclamation  of  terror  and  sur¬ 
prise. 

It  is  the  Marquis ! 

Oh  !  fatal  mistake ! 

This  great  Signor — 

This  noble  lover 

Was  but  a  robber  you  now  discover! 

[During  the  above,  Fra  Diav.  has  gained  the  level 
ground,  and  advances  leisurely  towards  Bep. 

Fra  Diav.  {Leaning  on  Bep.’s  shoulder .) 

Friend  Beppo,  see !  fate  has  blessed  me  all  my  life. 

My  lord  at  last, 

And  his  gold  and  his  wife, 

All  are  mine ! 

Lor.  {Appearing  suddenly.)  Not  so  fast! 

[Instantly  the  rocks,  the  mountain  paths,  and 
the  sides  of  the  stage  became  covered  with 
the  Carbineers,  who  level  their  guns  at  Fra, 
Diav.  and  Bep.  Bep.  falls  on  the  ground. 
Mat.,  at  Lor.’s  movement,  has  rushed  and 
snatched  Diav.’s  carbine  from  his  hand,  and 
turning  round  presents  it  at  his  head.'-  The 
three  banditti,  who  have  remained  at  the 
top  of  the  stage,  are  disarmed  by  the  peasants. 


Lor. 

Guide. 

Lady  A. 
Lord  A. 


64 


CHORUS. 

Victoria!  Victoria!  Victoria! 

[Lor.  makes  a  sign  to  remove  Fra  Diav.,  who 
along  with  Bep.,  is  led  away  by  a  party  of 
Carbineers. 

QUINTET. 

Zer.,  Lor.,  Lord  A.,  Lady  A.  and  Mat. 

With  gratitude  now  blended, 

Let  joy  in  every  bosom  reign  ; 

Happiness  and  peace  again, 

Now  may  our  hopes  obtain  ! 

The  furious  storm  once  ended, 

The  sailor’s  song  will  cheerful  flow ; 

Thus  our  hearts  new  joy  will  know, 

When  rid  of  this  dread  foe ! 

And  fearless,  each  hand  in  his  lone  retreat, 

This  dreaded  name  may  now  repeat — 

Diavolo ! — Diavolo  ! 

[Just  then  Diav.>  preceded  by  four  Carbineers, 
and  followed  by  four  more,  appears  con¬ 
ducted  across  the  mountain. 

Chorus  ( 'pointing  to  him,  and  finishing  the  air  with  a  loud 
burst.') 

DIAVOLO. 

Victoria !  Victoria !  Victoria ! 

With  heart  and  voice 
Loud  rejoice ! 

[Bep.,  who  is  guarded  behind  Diav.,  throws 
himself  down,  refusing  to  march  on.  The 
soldiers  drag  him  struggling  across  the 
mountain  as  the  curtain  falls. 


THE  END. 


Chickering  &  Sons, 

MANUFACTURERS  OF 

PIANO  FORTES 


Established  in  1823.  Eighty=one  First  (Premiums . 

The  Largest  Piano  Manufactory  in  the  World. 

The  Oldest  Piano  Manufactory  in  America. 


THE  HIGHEST  RECOMPENSE  OVER  ALL  COMPETITION 

AT  THE 

UNIVERSAL  EXPOSITION,  PARIS,  1867. 


OLD  MEDAL 


IMRIKMSONS. 

BOSTON 


CROSS  OF  THE 

LESION  OF  HONOB, 

1867. 


The  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor 

AND  FIRST  GOLD  MEDAL 

WERE  AWARDED  TO  CHICKERING  &  SONS. 

This  places  the  CHICKERING  PIANO  at  the  head  of  the 

■WOULD- 


